Edge Of Darkness
by nevermissme
Summary: Tom pushed Hermione aside brusquely making her fall hardly on the cold floor as a red flash came rushing and hit Tom square on the chest. DARK possesive Tom.
1. Most disloyal traitor

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything, unfortunately. Nothing belongs to me except for the plot; No profit is being made from this story and all rights go to its rightful owner.

**Author notes: **This is my first Tomione so please bear with me. I don't know if I will continue with 'I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good' everything is due to the lack of inspiration and the scarcity of free time but I will do my best to update fast in this story. Probably you won't hear with me for a whole week or more and it's because tomorrow I will be on vacation, I will still be able to reply to comments and alerts though I'm not sure if it will give me enough time to write. I sincerely hope you enjoy this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it; I'll try to make it different than other fics you've read and make it as non-cliché as I can. So please enjoy, read, put yourself comfortable and most importantly, **Review if you want me to continue writing!**

**Warning: **This isn't one of those fics where Tom suddenly turns all good and falls deeply in love with Hermione. No, in this fic Tom is cruel, empty and merciless. The first chapters won't be too dark I think but I dare you to continue. If you disapprove or don't like dark stories then this isn't the fic for you.

This chapter is edited and I am sure there won't be many errors here! Thanks to my new beta Pooja (murtagh799)

oOo

_**Edge of Darkness**_

_By Nevermissme_

"_I'm hanging there, don't you see?" 'O' Children by Nick Cave_

It was a void of darkness.

As if gravity had graced apprehension into falling in an empty space. The sky had blown the heavens into ashes. Powerlessness filled the world as the joyous shrieks of the Death Eaters, importantly the Dark Lord, could be heard from miles away. Fear was concealed among the humans with hope slipping through everyone's bloody grips as if it were water.

Hermione lay semi-unconscious, her cheek pressed against the ground. Her heart was pounding laboriously, each beat requiring great effort as she tried to gasp for breath. She opened her eyes carefully, feeling dryness beneath her eyelids. Her head was throbbing so badly it felt as if it had been split open.

Her hazel eyes wandered around her forest surroundings, though she couldn't spot anything. Everything was pitch black, just like a dark abyss in which nothing can seem to escape.

She closed her eyes tightly and opened them once again as if intending to clear the darkness of the woods from her vision, but it didn't go away. Hermione bid to stand, but her body was too numb. Her skin was now shone with an unhealthy pallor, smeared with dirt and blood. She managed to gain mobility in one of her hands, which were now thin and bony. Hermione stretched out one hand, trying to grope for her wand. Immediately, she felt warmth seep through her as her fingers enveloped the thin wood.

She lay breathing heavily on the cold ground of the bare forest as tears welled up in her amber eyes, eyes that had once gleamed with intelligence and cunning. The same eyes that had held great spirit and unquestionable curiosity, stubbornness and braveness. But now they were only a dull shade of brown. They were exhausted, filled with dreadful memoirs. Memories that would never be wished upon even your worst enemies.

Hermione held her ribs with an arm trying to soothe the continual pain that seized her. At least the pain proved she was still alive. Her breath caught in her sore throat as her heart began to strain to beat. She was translucent, such as a ghost would be. Her delicate features were haunted and her bushy hair that had once fallen down her back in beautiful golden waves was now limp and dull.

Her mind was reeling with memories.

_She gasped as a flash of green whizzed past her, eerily illuminating the black woods with its emerald hue before it disappeared. There was a moment where silence followed, where only the splintering of branches could be heard. _

_It all hurt so much; Hermione started to feel the pain in her limbs as her heart began to beat frantically. The cold air brushed her skin relentlessly and she felt her legs began to slow. She was too weak; too many days gone undernourished, too many tears spilled. _

"_Where will you run now, mudblood? To see witty little potty? Where is he now? Say it mudblood! Say it with me! He…is…DEAD!" Bellatrix screamed, maniacally, her eyes glowing with insanity as she waved her wand in complex movements while she jumping up and down. _

_Hermione was shaking with anger, tears filling her eyes and pouring down her cheeks. Led by the impulse, her wand drew backwards as a blue light shot out from the tip at light speed. Bellatrix let out shriek, the spell narrowly missing her head. _

"_HOW DARE YOU? FILTHY MUDBLOOD!" she screamed furiously; her black eyes gleaming like a predator hunting its prey. "WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU…YOU WON'T EVEN BE ABLE TO WIPE THE DIRT OFF YOUR SOILED CHIN…I…WILL…KILL…YOU!" _

_Hermione gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. She tightened her grip on her wand as she began running as fast as her legs let her. The branches were clawing at her face sharply, the air ruffling her tousled hair. She ran viciously, holding one of her ribs to try to ease her labored breathing. Her lungs burned horribly. Bellatrix's unceasing shrieks had been left behind, her mocking laughter still echoing in Hermione's ears. _

_She turned around sharply; running in a different direction so the madwoman could not trace her. She stumbled and tripped over her own feet, knocking her knees painfully against the ground. It wasn't until that moment that she became fully aware of the pain wracking her body. She gasped for air and panicked when she heard the sharp sounds of branches snapping under someone's feet. _

_Hermione placed the wand above her head unconsciously, summoning a disillusionment charm on her body. She felt a flood of cold running down over her, all warmth she had left her as something hard pressed her head. Hermione lay on the ground, immobile, trying hard not to break the concentration of her spell while she noted how Bellatrix stood there motionless, staring scornful at the forest trying to spot some sign of her._

"_I know you're here somewhere," she said, lilting, "Come out come out wherever you are," she mocked in a childish voice that made Hermione's skin shiver. Bella's ears pricked, hoping to hear any rustle of the dry leaves at her feet, to find something unusual disturbing the silence. She half closed her big black eyes and was about to take a step forward to where Hermione lay but for a matter of fate perhaps, she felt a sharp pain burn beneath her sleeve. She slowly pulled the cuff of her robe above her wrist and revealed the charred flesh that burned black against her skin. _

_Bellatrix grimaced and stared with disdain at where Hermione was lying invisible, and after a few seconds of scrutinizing the dry ground uselessly, she drew in a deep breath and did not hesitate this time. Her eyes closed and her mind left behind all traces of her current location. She had dissaparated. _

_Hermione felt numb, her limbs were weak and her heart pounded against her ears. She knew the spell had lifted because she felt some semblance of warmth return to her, though her headache still remained. She dropped her wand next to her tiredly, feeling a weight over her shoulders bigger than she could bear. Her eyelids were slowly closing lazily, until the only thing she was aware of was an absolute drowsiness. _

_She was suddenly enveloped into a cloak of darkness. _

And there she was now, lying weakly against the cold ground_, _the leaves and twigs scratching at her cheek mercilessly. She lay in a pit of darkness, waiting on the cold, cruel edge of the unknown. Hermione clenched her quivering hands against her chest attempting to ease the void and restlessness roaming in her heart. Soft sobs rippled through her body. Her sleek curls formed a protective hollow around her gaunt face, most likely hiding her streak of tears.

A year had past sincethe Death Eaters had infiltrated Hogwarts, spreading instant chaos among the students. Somehow, they had managed to dispel the magical shields that had surrounded the castle. Their haven had become remarkably defenseless, crumbling slowly at their feet. Spells had sped through the air menacingly. Bodies collapsing in slow motion until they hit cold ground never to be felt again, senses fading away remaining numb forever; her classmates, even her teachers had fought with all the intensity they could muster. Harry's limp body carried by Hagrid, as cries had emitted from the crowd. Ginny's uncontrolled screams echoing through the cold, sharp night as Voldemort's laughter joined her sorrowful cries. Fred's inert corpse, his blue eyes staring dull and lifeless at the ceiling.

Those memories still plagued Hermione at night, filtering through her mind in her sleep, rolling as if it was a movie without a stop button. On most nights, she would wake covered in sweat and sob helplessly. 365 days had passed, though it seemed much longer than that.

Since the untimely demise of Harry during the final battle, Voldemort had taken possession of the magic world. The ruins that resembled Hogwarts now stood as a testament to all of those who dared question the Dark Lord's will. The Death Eaters had ambushed various order members and had murdered them brutally, though they kept some alive long enough to extract valuable information. Of course, no one had spoken and had been tortured 'till insanity for their non-compliance and then killed ruthlessly. Fear spread around the world. No one dared question the new Lord.

Hermione had been captured by the snatchers two months after the battle and had been tortured endlessly. She had managed to escape and since then, she had been on the run, camping in isolated places and summoning protective charms around her surroundings to make sure no one could see nor listen. Ever since her escape, she had been sought by Voldemort's followers, including the Dark Lord himself. Her capture was crucial not solely because she was the last Order Member alive, but because while in captivity of the Dark Lord, and throughout her torture by Bellatrix Lestrange, the witch had accidently slipped crucial information into Hermione's mind.

At first, Hermione didn't think it was of much importance, seeing as they were only fuzzy excerpts from a memory of the Dark Lord's condition, but as she thought more about it, it could turn out to be an essential hint towards Voldemort's destruction. If only she could remember clearly and hopefully understand the situation better.

After she had been tortured she knew she had to come up with a plan. Being the last Order Member alive, she knew she had to do whatever she could to provide even a hint of light among the dark, to show that not everything was lost even if she had a hard time believing it herself.

Hermione clearly knew the horcruxes were hidden somewhere and she had to get to them before Voldemort found out she knew of their existence. And that was what she was had been attempting since her escape. She was trying as hard as she could to find a clue of where a horcrux could be, but without Harry or her friends, she was weakened. She just couldn't deal with it anymore, one person just couldn't. It was an unbearable weight over her shoulders to handle and now she finally understood how Harry had felt all this time.

At the beginning Hermione had been armed with strength and courage to undertake the quest on her own, deeply focused on the mission that now was up to her. She had even put her feelings behind. The grief was still there of course, ready to overflow and wreak havoc instantly, but she managed to hold it all back knowing that some day she couldn't wait any longer and explode.

It had all started a month ago.

She had finally stopped searching. Hermione Granger had given up. All her fragile strength was gone. Now she simply moved from place to place, searched for food, stole discarded Daily Prophets from the garbage and mechanically read the news, only to realize the whole world was falling apart as each day passed. There were fatalities everywhere, more power added to Voldemort's regime and she couldn't do anything to prevent it. Her Gryffindor spirit had faded away and now she was only a shadow of what the old Hermione used to be. It was like she wasn't even alive anymore.

Instead she only stood there every day, staring at the bitter sky waiting for the solution she desperately sought, a solution for her ever daunting sorrow. But it didn't come. The idea of a savior was now lost in the past. Every day the thought of how she had failed to save Harry from his death haunted her, how she had been aware of what had been happening, and yet she hadn't managed to prevent it. Hermione had lost faith in her abilities, in her knowledge, in her skills, the moment she caught glimpse of his limp, clearly mutilated body.

Yet, all was not lost. Her solution had come to her just a week prior when she vaguely recalled a spell she had read in the restricted section during her horcrux research.

"_The spell itself is complex. It is said only a powerful wizard can accomplish it without disastrous consequences. Its result is undefined, sending the castor to the unknown, opening a new path and creating an irrespective destiny for the castor, and removing them from their current circumstances."_

Hermione still didn't know how to perform the aforementioned spell or more likely ritual; it was still very difficult to perform or else it wouldn't have been written in an advanced charms book in the restricted section. Besides, since Hermione had started doubting her abilities she didn't believe she could do magic at all.

She stared at the dark tall trees, half closing her eyes to bits and thoughts hovering through her mind. A branch snapped, the noise echoing through the sharp night bringing the girl out of her reverie. Hermione turned her head alarmed as she tightened her grip around her wand, ready to curse whoever it was, but saw nothing but the dark silhouettes of the stark trees.

Another twig cracked.

She startled on the ground once more, raising her wand with her trembling bony hands. She tried not to move, or even breathe, when she noted a fuzzy figure making its way through the bushes. She lay still in her position, her muscles stiffened at his proximity. The figure was getting bigger until finally, he stopped right above her position. She closed her eyes to slits and let out a short gasp as the moonlight brightened the stranger's face. The blonde locks fell over his pale face, increasing his disheveled appearance. His jaw was clenched and his grip was tightened around his wand. His grey orbs were staring at her intensely. He knelt by her side elegantly; his black cloak fluttering to his feet.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably and grimaced in pain; blood was spluttering from her leg, the one she had tripped on. Draco felt his body shudder and his mouth grew dry as he recalled the moments where his aunt Bella had tortured Hermione mercilessly. She looked now just as she had back then. But even in the gravest hour she had never surrender to the Dark Lord's will; a Gryffindor no matter what.

"Granger," he whispered faintly as he placed his wand above her wounded leg, he mumbled something under his breath and immediately the blood was absorbed into her skin, forming a small scar. She opened her mouth to talk but no sound came out.

"_Run,_" he hissed, scrutinizing the dark forest cautiously. Hermione narrowed her eyes and eyed him suspiciously, hopping to find some contempt in his irises but they were unreadable.

"Why? What's in it for you?" she replied defiantly, trying to sound firm but instead it only came out as a faint whisper. He raised a slender eyebrow lightly, certainly confused by her distrust; it was true that as a Gryffindor she would have some kind of spite for a Slytherin, but they were no longer in school and if she didn't trust him now she would be doomed.

"Listen," he whispered tiredly, "I need you to trust me this once, if you do not then you will get yourself killed, I want you to run _now."_

"And where will you go?" the girl croaked, not sure why she cared at all. He stared at her, no emotion betraying in his perfect face.

"I-I don't know," he stammered. Now that he thought about it, he didn't know where he was going to go after he helped her. The Dark Lord would obviously find out about it sooner or later and he knew he wouldn't make it far if he ran.

No one could hide from the Dark Lord.

Her eyes wandered through the shadows; biting her bottom lip as she felt pity for the man hovering above her. She was at a loss for words when her gaze lingered on the small livid scar across his left cheek. She hadn't even noted how deteriorated his appearance was. His manner of self-sufficiency and arrogance had vanished; instead there was only a mere boy, ungainly, who looked older than he actually was.

Under other circumstances Hermione would have rejoiced in his suffering and pleading expression, but now the both of them shared something in common. Both wanted to flee from Lord Voldemort's regime.

Hermione rummaged for the appropriate words to impart without spilling crucial information that did not concern him whatsoever.

"I-I think I have a…solution," she uttered dimly.

"There is no solution, Granger. You just have to leave and go into hiding, they're all looking for you. Right now, you're their favorite target since you're a muggle-born," he murmured slowly.

He remembered the times where the word "Mudblood" would have easily passed his lips. "_And_ you have possess essential information, _vital_ information," he corrected himself, "It is not be prudent to be wandering in the woods carelessly and risk that they find you again, this time you've been spared, but not for long. My aunt has informed everyone of your whereabouts and it will only take a matter of seconds until they appear."

"No," she said stubbornly. "I'm going to keep fighting, even if that's the last thing I do. Harry would have wanted that some of the good continued what he had been doing."

"Again your boldness and loyalty has interfered with your logic and rationality," he said coolly.

"Not all is lost, we can still win," she whispered pleadingly.

"I seriously don't think, by any manner, you believe your own words."

"I know a spell…I'm going to use it, if I can change everything I…" her voice trailed off, tears welling up in her amber eyes. Desperation crept into her voice as her hands shook lightly. Draco didn't know what to do now, so instead he kept looking around nervously, ignoring how her grip tightened around his wrist as hard as she could muster.

He scrutinized the girl's face for several minutes, his face full of contrariety and doubt. His grey orbs were filled with pain and dilemma, trying so hard to think of the right decision. He could help her, just as he was about to do, but even if she saved, he would be considered a traitor among those who offered him protection. And he just couldn't die, he couldn't leave his mother, he couldn't leave the world yet. The Dark Lord hadn't been very pleased when he had failed to fulfill the mission that had been entrusted to him last year. He recalled the painful moments where he had been tortured endlessly, until he had learned his lesson.

"_I do not accept failure, though I might as well give you a last opportunity to amend your previous mistakes_," he had said.

And now he was about to betray him again. Draco shuddered suddenly. _What the hell am I thinking? I'm suicidal, that's what. _Deep down he wondered why he was _helping_ her at all. Perhaps the part that was saving Granger was the same that couldn't bring itself to kill Dumbledore. Maybe he could consider it the last vestige of humanity he still retained and it kept him from drowning entirely in the abyss. But did that mean he was a part of the light? That there was a beating heart inside his solid chest? Because…he must have a heart, right?

His grey eyes clashed against her hazel ones, unable to pick a side.

Finally the silence was broken. "You know a spell that can help _us _change things,_" _he mumbled quietly, disguising his pain with a toneless voice. His features remained impassive as he tried hard to hide his fear. After all hiding emotions was a Malfoy trait.

One of her eyebrows was mildly raised, her eyes studying his blank mask carefully. His eyes gleamed between sincere and annoyed.

"What?" she asked in barely more than a whisper.

"I'm certainly not going to live if they find out that I simply let you run away," he said softly "I-I'm not ready to die yet, I want to help…and if that aids to amend my past wrongs for the better, then I will," he said faintly, his voice sounding completely naïve and foreign to his own ears.

Hermione stared at his honest features and opened her mouth to talk but she was speechless once more. After a couple of seconds of hesitation, she nodded slowly and did not protest.

"Are you sure you know how to cast the spell?" he asked slowly.

"I-I think so," she whispered nervously. He nodded solemnly and hooked his arms under hers and effortlessly hoisted the girl over his shoulder. She grimaced at the sudden pain and he supported the majority of her weight against his. Just as they were about to leave, a sharp crack echoed throughout the solitary woods.

Draco gulped. "They're here," he croaked.

Hermione felt her heart fall and her surroundings started to spin. Draco grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her on the ground. Hermione stopped dead and held a hand subconsciously to her bare neck. Her heart started beating faster whilst she searched desperately in her clothes.

"Granger, what are you doing?" he asked tightening his grip, trying hopelessly to drag her. "They're coming!"

It seemed as if she wasn't listening at all. Her entire body was quivering lightly as she tried to loosen her wrist from his firm grip.

"Are you bloody insane? C'mon!"

"I-I need to find it, it's g-gone, my locket is g-gone," she cried as she rummaged for it in her pockets; her dull locks falling into her face rebelliously. "Harry gave it to me, it's the only thing I got left." Draco saw the tears pouring down her cheeks uncontrollably. He had hardly ever felt pity for anyone in his life, but what he felt now was much more than that. He turned his head, alarmed when he heard his aunt's high pitched laughter.

"Granger, we must leave! _Now!" _he hissed harshly, pulling her by the arm.

Hermione let out a short gasp as she knelt quickly on the ground. She grabbed the golden locket, momentarily illuminated by the moon's silver splendor.

"Come on," he said harshly, dragging her with him. This time she did not protest and let Draco pull her by the arm roughly as both of them ran through the forest.

Flashes of blue rushed right past them, narrowly missing Hermione's head. Draco tightened his grip on her arm.

"Keep running," he commanded, as he noted her heavy breathing. The pain in her limbs was now unbearable. Her lungs were burning and her bones were shaking.

"Draco?" someone called drawling, his voice deadly soft. "What do you think you are doing, helping a mudblood? Do you wish to suffer the Lord's wrath, perhaps? And what about your mother, poor Narcissa…" Lucius hissed. Draco clenched his jaw, ignoring his father's scolding. Hermione was not paying attention to their exchange, focused instead to the approaching persons. They were tall figures, covered with hoods and masks that kept their faces in the shadows. Bellatrix was running next to Lucius who had managed to keep his sleek and mournful demeanor while the witch jumped up and down madly.

"FILTHY TRAITOR! Degrading yourself to a mudblood, you…are…a…disgrace for the Noble Black Family!" the witch screeched insanely, her untamed black hair floating around her deranged face briefly illuminated by the moonlight.

"Granger, I'm going to stop and put barriers around us, but I will not be able to sustain them for long. I need you to be ready and brave…and cast the spell, you hear me?" he said brokenly, trying to gasp for air. Hermione nodded faintly as she cradled her ribs with one hand. She couldn't do it. Her hand was slipping from Draco's the cold air burning her lungs and brushing her hair onto her face, making her vision unclearly.

"Are you ready?" he asked grimly, his hand twitching nervously. Hermione gulped and nodded lightly. "On the count of three, one…two," he swallowed hard, "three!" Both halted instantly. Draco raised his wand.

"_Protego Totalum!" _An invisible shield surrounded them, deflecting every spell. Bella and Lucius stopped dead. The witch was shaking with anger as she started moving her wand in complex patterns. Yellow, blue, and purple lights shot out from the tip of her wand, all of them dissipating as soon as they touched the shield.

Hermione stood in the middle, her legs trembling with her insufferable weight.

"_Tempus_ _omnis" _she mumbled, pointing her wand at a dark spot in the ground; she watched how a straight yellow line appeared carved on the ground before them. "_Eo Ire Itum."_

Draco's hand was shaking slightly as he turned to face his father.

"Draco, I command you to remove that shield this instance," he hissed, his eyebrows forming a perfect "v".

"Insolent brat!" Bellatrix shrieked, her eyes open wide, gleaming with anger

"After what the Dark Lord has done for our family, you dare disobey his orders once again," Lucius drawled "You displease me Draco. Imagine what he will do to us when he discovers what you have done…unbearable pain for your mother, dear Narcissa, we will surely be met with an untimely demise…"

Draco's hand trembled as he resisted the urge to lower his wand and surrender to his father and the darkness once again. His eyes were watering from the effort put into his barrier. His mind battled with itself trying to figure out what was more important. Although a part of him wanted to berate himself for his lack of responsibility - his mother was going to carry out all the weight and all because of his faults - while the other wanted to help Granger on her fight for good, and if they proved victorious, wouldn't that mean salvation for his parents too?

"Granger…" he said pleadingly as he tried so hard to disregard their painful words.

"STOP IT!" Bellatrix snarled angrily "_Crucio!_"

Draco fell to his knees, the shield broken as he started writhing on the ground, his painful cries echoing in the forest.

"Grab the girl," she hissed without breaking her concentration on Draco. Lucius strode towards Hermione and pointed his wand at her neck, grabbing her arm roughly.

Hermione tried to snatch her arm from his grasp in a vain attempt. Draco continued squirming and screaming torturously, piercing Hermione's ears with his pitiful cries.

"Please…stop!" she implored, unaware of the tears that slid down her cheek. It caused her anger how Bellatrix could mercilessly torture his own nephew. She trembled in rage as she suddenly recalled Bella's words just hours before.

_Harry, Ron, Ginny…all dead_.

Her wand was slipping from her sweaty, quivering hands.

"You will be avenged Harry, I promise," she cried quietly. Her face contorted in rage as she tried to mute Draco's shouting from her mind.

"What shall we do now, Bella?" Lucius asked stiffly.

"Call the Dark Lord," she said acerbically, moving her wrist abruptly and intensifying the curse. Draco's forehead was drenched in sweat, as he buried his nails into the ground with such force Hermione would not be surprised seeing his blood soak into it.

She couldn't stand it anymore.

_I need to change this; we need to…please let it work, _she thought pleadingly as she stared at the ground. _"Salus Uterque"_

Hermione let out a gasp as she noted a blast of magic suddenly fill the air forming some kind of shield around them. The runes on the ground lit up, illuminating the forest eerily.

It was only then she noted Draco had stopped screaming. Bella had detained the cruciatus spell and Lucius had loosened his firm grip, both staring shocked at the scene before them. Hermione, drawing on their trance, grabbed Draco's hand tightly. The lights around them blazed unto the heavens. It brightened their faces until a white abyss was all they could see. It wrapped them together until they couldn't distinguish Bellatrix or Lucius anymore, just a rain of white beautiful sparks.

An orange blaze emitted from their entwined hands. His grip hardened against hers and for the first time, the fear was evident in Draco's eyes only now he didn't fight to conceal it. The power was forced in and out of their bodies. Magic exploded into a blinding light.

They watched as Bellatrix and Lucius observed the scene. Bella had rage written all over her contorted face as she trembled from head to toe, while Lucius watched astonished, paying full attention to the scene unfolding in front of his eyes, his hand twitching.

The dark silhouettes of the trees faded slowly as the dry and cold grass begun to disappear beneath their feet. Slowly they faded into a tornado of gold, the color of the powerful spell that now emitted sparks all around them. Their hands were gradually separated, until they were each covered by their own golden shield.

Hermione's body was almost contorting in pain, but it was not physical pain. Instead her body was numb. She couldn't even feel her limbs. No, this was something different. It was like her life had been immediately sucked out of her, worse than the dementors themselves. Everything was gold and white around them and she turned to see Draco staring idly at nothing in particular, a thick pearly tear trickling down his pale cheek, his mouth parted slightly.

When Hermione arched a brow confusedly, she became dazed as dozens of images flash in front of her eyes.

The image of Ron's blood stained body burned her eyes. His stiff body was lying on the marble floor, staring lifelessly at the ceiling. Her bloodcurdling scream still echoed in her ears. Images flashed before her eyes, come and gone within seconds. It was as if her whole life had just flashed before her eyes. The grief in her heart was too much to handle, it felt as if it wouldn't take long until she fell apart completely.

Sobbing uncontrollably she buried her face in her trembling hands, unable to control the unceasing anger building up in her slim body. An overwhelming feeling of hate roamed in her chest as she stared at the inert bodies in front of her. Ron… Luna… Ginny… Harry… her parents, everyone she had ever loved or cared about was gone. Numb forever. Forever lost. Now there was only the feeling of an empty void and restlessness, solely emptiness and pain.

She just wanted to avenge their deaths, to punch something hard until she could manage to get all of her anger out, but she knew it wouldn't change anything, unless the spell had worked. Draco had been quiet this whole time, staring at the emptiness, his glassy eyes opened wide.

Hermione suddenly felt an excruciating pain in her lungs as if her insides where drowning with liquid. She screamed loudly, her cries echoing in the abyss. The sudden bright light blinded them and then it disappeared. Everything disappeared. They hit ground heavily and then they lost consciousness.

oOo

Everything hurt.

Her body was sore and she couldn't even move a muscle without wincing at the excruciating pain. Her eyes were dry beneath her eyelids and she felt utterly weak as if she had been lifting a thousand pounds over her shoulders. Her heart was taking far too much effort to beat, slowly building up and regaining its rhythmic pant. Her fingers felt the cotton sheets beneath them.

She opened her eyes cautiously, though she could only make out the hazy outline of the bed where she was laying. After her eyes had adjusted to the bad lighting of the room, she took a look at her surroundings. The room was poorly decorated. There was a small wooden closet leaning dangerously forward, threatening to collapse at any time. The candlelight flickered, emanating an odd orange glow around the room, a cold and depressing aura pouring in all around her. Thick layers of grey slabs composed the walls. The crystals of the only window in the room were so dirty that it barely allowed any sunlight to leak in between, giving the whole room a mournful and somber aspect.

She hadn't even noted a person standing quietly in one corner until his voice broke the silence.

"You're awake."

The voice was hypnotizing and beautiful. His words were almost a whisper, yet she could hear them clearly. It flowed perfectly out of his lips, smooth and silky though it was something else, something wrong with it. There seemed to be a cold and enigmatic tone in his melodious voice that made him even more entrancing and darkly beautiful.

The figure walked slowly towards her until it stopped next to her bed; her eyes flickered until she could finally spot his enthralling eyes from her hazy vision.

His irises were grey, though unlike others these men's orbs looked as if they were covered by different layers of silver, each containing a different secret, impossible to decipher. It made her want to drown in them. They were entrancing and mesmerizing, but haunting at the same time.

His face was perfectly carved; his body was lean, smooth and his skin very pale, though it even seemed to enhance his beauty. His black hair, neatly combed, added an elegant touch to his fine and unperturbed features. A small smile curled his perfectly-shaped lips, emphasizing his high cheekbones. Was it worth mentioning how his grey uniform fit perfectly to his body, highlighting the muscles underneath? He looked like an aristocrat and the way his hands were burrowed deep into his pockets made him look like a young god, carved out of pale marble stone.

"Are you feeling better, Miss?" he inquired, arching an eyebrow elegantly.

Hermione kept staring at him slightly dazed. "Er…I, yes. I-I'm Hermione" she stuttered, and it was only then she realized her voice was cracked and her throat sore.

"My name is Tom Riddle," the man said softly, his intense gaze locked with her amber eyes. "You were found laying unconscious right outside Wool's orphanage along with Laurent and I considered it best if I brought you both inside than to leave you outside in the cold courtyard."

Hermione couldn't think straight anymore. Her stomach dropped and her head began spinning wildly. _Tom Riddle?_ _It can't be possible, he can't…he mustn't be…_

How could it be possible? He had won, he had been victorious…

_And who was Laurent?_

"If you don't mind me asking, which day is it?" she asked nervously; Tom cocked his head lightly to his side, his blank mask unperturbed.

"Why, today is August 25, 1942," he said, unable to contain his doubt. "You've been unconscious for two days now."

Hermione felt color drain from her face and her heart speed up as if something pressed her chest impeding her to catch a whiff of air. She was in the past. Hermione became nauseous but tried not to show her utter shock as she tried to assess the situation and think of a reasonable explanation of why was that happening.

She knew quite a few things about old magic but nothing she'd ever read had even hinted at a person being able to travel this far back in time. There were clever wizards and witches who had tried to discover the hidden meaning behind time traveling, but they hadn't quite encountered something this extensive. Decades! It was inconceivable.

While there were records of spells and potions that had gone awry causing the witch or wizard to vanish, but there was never something that quite proved that they had gone back in time.

And then there was the time turner. She had studied the subject carefully in the Hogwarts library. The concept of time had intrigued her during her third year after McGonagall had given her a time turner. Somehow, it allowed you to travel a few hours into the past, but certainly not years. The furthest anyone had gone back was a clever wizard by the name of Arecto Mimblus. He had traveled 72 hours, and until now no one had discovered a way to go further than that. But… the spell she had used, why had it brought her to this date exactly? She hadn't recalled anything regarding time travel in the text she had read. And why had she had to end up precisely with _him?_

Absorbed in her thoughts she almost forgot exactly who was standing next to her. Hermione panicked and groped for her wand in her pocket underneath the sheets but it wasn't there.

"I will notify Mrs. Cole that you have awakened." Her eyes flickered to the still form of Tom, who had been studying her carefully. He strode swiftly across the room until he disappeared through the opened door.

Hermione averted her gaze towards the dirty window. An oak tree stood in the middle of the courtyard, sagging slightly. The leaves were drifting off the branches and onto the ground with graceful movements, or occasionally the howling wind carried them off into the sky.

"Hello. Tom informed me you were already awake. How are you feeling?" A woman came rushing through the door, her brows furrowed. She was skinny, and harassed-looking; the woman had sharp features though they appeared to be more anxious than unkind.

"B-better, thank you," Hermione responded, her lips forming a weak smile; she cocked her head to one side and noted Tom was leaning casually against the doorframe, his hands crossed against his chest. He seemed to be aware of every movement Hermione and Mrs. Cole made and that frightened the girl deeply.

"I'm Mrs. Cole, the matron of this orphanage," she said, staring intently at the girl with her fingers intertwined and placed against her stomach. "As Tom may have already told you, you were found unconscious on our front yard with several injuries along with a boy, Mr. Draco Laurent, as he told me; it is not my intention to pry, just curiosity on how you got them, Miss…?"

"Austen, Hermione Austen," Hermione answered quickly; she obviously couldn't tell she was a Granger, apart from causing confusion between the past and the future relation, it could lead to serious problems due to the muggle persecution going on. "And I don't quite remember what happened; everything's so blurry in my mind, though I think I was brutally attacked." Mrs. Cole let out a brief gasp and covered her mouth with her hand while Tom remained silent; his face covered by an impassive mask, his grey orbs hiding any emotion.

"That is horrible, I wonder who would have done such a thing and more importantly why didn't anyone notice," Mrs. Cole wondered, more to herself than to Hermione. "I have already tried to heal your wounds and wiped the blood from your face, but I guess you are still weak to do much. You will be under medication and I will make an exception and allow you and Mr. Laurent to stay here until you recover completely," she said managing to compose a very unconvincing smile. The woman turned her head to where Tom was standing. "Tom, do you mind showing Ms. Austen her new room, Carolina Meadows left the orphanage, so her room is free, and help her get settled in here." Riddle merely nodded his head and continued staring at Hermione with his intense gaze. "I do hope you find the orphanage agreeable Miss Austen," Mrs. Cole conclude placidly.

Hermione's lips twitched upwards and she winced at the pain she felt.

"Of course," she replied, trying so hard not to show her pain. It was until that moment she realized something…where was Malfoy?

"Mrs. Cole, where is…?"

"Draco?" she asked and Hermione nodded "Why, he's resting right now, he was really pale although unlike you, he didn't have many injuries," she said. Hermione nodded slowly. In that very moment, a slim brown-haired girl entered the room nervously and started stuttering.

"Mrs. Cole I think Dennis is sick, he's been very pallid since this morning," the girl said.

"Again? Amy why don't you get him some water first and the medicines we gave him last time, I'll be right there," the matron said tiredly. The girl, Amy, nodded as she stared at Hermione nervously and gave her a quick smile, though apparently she hadn't noted Tom standing near her, because the moment she saw him Amy paled immediately and ran away, as if fearing to be chased by him. Tom didn't falter; his face remained impassive although Hermione thought she saw a red glow cross his perfect features.

Mrs. Cole didn't seem to notice and left the room hurriedly, leaving Hermione alone with Tom. He walked towards her upright and gave her a reluctant smile which she didn't return; instead she felt chills running down her spine.

"Miss Austen, allow me to show you your new room. If I am accurate I think Mrs. Cole has left you a clean uniform you can use." Hermione opened her mouth to talk but was unable to emit any sound at all. Instead, she just nodded lightly as he held out a hand flippantly. Hermione eyed it suspiciously as if by touching it her hand he would burn her, but then decided she was being paranoid and took it hesitantly.

Tom smirked and helped her get out of bed. The brief touch of his cold skin against hers sent tingles down her right arm. They left the room and walked down the narrow aisle. A few children were peering out from behind their doors and staring curiously at Hermione. When they saw Tom, they would shut their doors immediately.

Tom turned right abruptly and Hermione had to walk fast to keep up with his long strides. They climbed up a rickety staircase.

"This is your room and mine is just down the hallway," he replied, curtly, scrutinizing the girl's features. Her hair fell down in loose auburn curls, her skin was smooth and it had a pale sickly aspect. There was a small scar just above her eyebrow and her hazel eyes struggled to avoid meeting with his at all costs.

_Interesting,_ Riddle thought with disdain. "Dinner is at 6:00 sharp, if there is something more you require, do not hesitate in let me know." Hermione nodded slightly avoiding his gaze. He opened up the door for her and made a small bow.

"I expect you will find this to your liking. I shall leave you so you can take a bath and perhaps rest some more before dinner is served."

"Yes I'm sure it will, thank you," Hermione said politely, holding back a scowl. He smirked and nodded mildly, striding back to his dorm; his head held high, his shoulders back.

She turned around; her lips forming a tense line. Hermione closed the door harshly and eyed the small room cautiously. It wasn't a room where it seemed that a great deal of money or time had been invested. It housed a small individual iron bedstead in a corner, an old wooden wardrobe and a lonely wooden chair. It had a dreary aura, barely illuminated by a few candles. The mere sight made her sad. She shook her head lightly as if by doing so, she would be able get rid of the horrid thoughts crossing her mind.

_Perhaps a bath would be nice,_ she thought feebly. She needed to clear her mind and unravel her thoughts. Hermione locked the door, staring at it for a moment. After some minutes she gave up on the idea that the future Dark Lord was waiting outside and entered the bathroom. She started to dispose of the ragged clothes she had been wearing ever since she had escaped the Death Eaters from Malfoy Manor.

She pulled the golden locket out from her pocket and let the chain slip through her fingers, the sun drawing out a few sparkles on the gold. Her gaze was fixed on the letters engraved on the exterior.

_Our lives are just a series of choices, what is important is that we take the right ones._

She opened the locket and bit her lip as she stared at a younger self reflected in the small photograph. Ron held her by the shoulders as he ran his fingers through his ginger hair. Harry laughed happily while he tried to put aside one of Hermione's curls making her smile widely. She felt a teardrop fall rebelliously down her cheek, making her heart shrink as she remembered merrier times. Where were they now? Gone forever, buried deep down in a corner of her obscure mind.

She put the locket aside, carefully.

Her hands moved unconsciously to her face and she brushed her cheeks with trembling fingers. Hermione looked thoroughly at the cluster of bruises and cuts that marked her grizzly skin. Her gaze wandered through the livid scar that crossed her left cheek, her fingers caressing the seam with a deliberate slowness. Her wan hair fell bitterly down her back; her limp, disheveled curls were interlaced, forming a mat of dull brown hair. Hermione barely flinched at her skin; gaunt and sickly pale, all color she might have possessed before had drained entirely from her face.

After having examined her injuries she stepped onto the water. It stung at her open wounds, but then her stiff muscles eased, letting the warmth fill her from within. She closed her eyes shut; the weakness of her body overflowed her bit by bit as if she was falling down a steep slowly.

After she untangled her hair cautiously, cleaned her face, alongside her body, and got rid of the crispy blood and grime until everything looked as clean as could be, she sat on floor, clutching her knees against her chest.

Something stirred within her, like a crevasse opening up in her heart, shedding small drops of blood, letting out only mournful wails. The impervious armor she had raised around her slowly began to crumble, making her emerge out to the cold surface, defenseless. The tears she had never got the chance to shed, now fringed her eyes, clouding and hindering her vision.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, letting the tears flow over her wasted cheeks. If her mind had been bewildered by the quantity of thoughts she had attempted so very hard to conceal for months, now it was enveloped in total chaos.

She started to think what might have happened if she had made different choices in her life. Her life could have been different. But she had already reached where she was and there was no going back. People are just that - Humans that make mistakes constantly. She could not do anything but wonder what might have happened to her under different circumstances. However, the only thing left with her now was the mourning for the loss of her friends. Her family. Her classmates. Her teachers. All of those whose innocent lives seeped out their bodies…

Although, what caused her the most anger, more than anything else, was her pitiful existence. After the ceaseless days of torture, battles, curses and all, she was still here. _Alive_. Why couldn't she have died along with everyone else on the battlefield, knowing she had done everything that was in her hands to protect what she believed in? Why had the world suddenly turned against her? Wasn't it enough to have lost all hope? She would also have to withstand the memories.

One thing was sure: The world was not _fair._

The water pressure begun to cease; the small room was swamped by her relentless wheezing and the irregular throbbing of her unbridled heart.

Soft sobs wracked through her chest silently and she just wished she could find a way to end her grief.

A weak noise brought her out of her reverie, making her flinch. She rose up slowly and closed the water taps, pulling herself out of the bath reluctantly. Hermione grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around her body. Once she had dried, she put on the ugliest uniform she had ever seen. The plaid skirt did not suit her well at all and the fabric of the grey blouse had a coarse and crispy texture that rasped against her sensitive skin.

_It could probably be worse. _

After she had inspected the clothing and its details, she tied her hair into a messy bun with some curls falling in her face. The reflection of her contrite face caught her attention as she stared back at her reflection. She drew in a deep breath and forced herself to smile as she wiped the tears with her hand.

She walked through the small space that was the bathroom and placed her hand on the doorknob, twisting it open; she grimaced at the pain at the movement of her fingers.

She stumbled on the threshold and was startled as she heard a smooth voice from behind her.

"Hello Miss Austen."

**Author's Notes: **okay so this was first chapter. I know is a bit long and I apologize for it I kinda got carried away hehe but for all of you who read it completely and didn't skip any line I send you a cyber-kiss (:

Please review, tell me what you like or didn't like, what I can improve or what you would like to read in next chapter. Anything, I just want to know how many of you like it and how many want me to continue. Like I said in the beginning I'm going to be away for a while but I'm still going to be able to reply to your comments, so I hope you leave lots (:

So I'll explain some things that may not be very clear in the chapter.

When Hermione wakes up, she has been unconscious for two days, I added it there. Sorry for confusing.

When Draco summons the _Protego Totalum _charm, why could Bellatrix get passed the shield with the cruciatus? Well apart from Draco being weak, I read that the unforgivable curses could get in, but now I've re-searched it and it doesn't appear anywhere, so I'm sorry if I confused you there.

Tempus: means time in Latin.

Mutatio: change or alteration in Latin.

Eo Ire Itum: means to travel in Latin.

**I love you xx**


	2. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind

This chapter is edited by my lovely beta Pooja (murtagh799) she is amazing, thank you for all your advices!

_First of all I want to thank everyone who reviewed and added this story to favorites, alerts etc. _

_Megii of Mysteri OusStranger, waterflower20, heylittletrain, darkxangelxreaderx, HereToRead84, zypherblaze, soccershadow3, death wish girl, seargentlambchop, seriana14. _

_And for those who left anonymous reviews, I wish I could send you pms but I can't so I'll leave it here. _

_OliveYew- Thank you so much. _

_A random reader- Thank you, hope this chapter intrigues you too :P _

_Please keep reviewing _

_Second, I'm sorry I haven't updated in almost two weeks I guess, I have lots of things in my life right now and writing chapters of ff is not my priority right now. I have a very important contest in two weeks and I have to prepare for it so I'm not going to be updating in a while. I hope you understand and excuse me if this chapter is a bit rushed I just finished it today. _

_oOo_

_She walked through the small space that was the bathroom and placed her hand on the doorknob, twisting it open; she grimaced at the pain at the movement of her fingers. _

_She stumbled on the threshold and startled as she heard a smooth voice from behind her. _

"_Hello Miss Austen."_

_oOo_

Bloody hell, she cursed him in her mind.

Tom stood in a corner silently, watching her avidly. Hermione felt a shudder run down her back, though it had nothing to do with the cold streaming through the half-opened window.

"Riddle," she said, faintly, backing away a few steps until her back was pressed against the wall. It was only then she realized that she had never felt so vulnerable and defenseless. She swallowed hard, ignoring the lump forming in her throat. Tom smiled charmingly, giving her a flash of his perfect white teeth. He took short steps towards her, scrutinizing her thoroughly. His imposing grey orbs clashed against her hazel ones. She felt as if she were a vulnerable prey being stalked by its predator.

"Please, excuse me. It wasn't my intention to frighten you," he finally said, his mellow voice burdening her ears. Hermione decided it wasn't time to submit to his inquisitive glance. Her entire body was stiff, but she managed to hold her head high, staring back at him defiantly. She wouldn't be the prey this time. He had already gained too much. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction to see how he intimidated her, even if she was trembling inside.

"I wasn't frightened by you," she spat. "I mean, you just startled me; I wasn't expecting someone to be in here. Especially as I remember having locked the door before I entered the bathroom," Hermione said slowly. Tom's expression changed immediately; his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Is that so? Well, it wasn't locked when I came in," he said innocently. "Of course, it was intrusive of me to have entered without your permission… Clearly I didn't mean to disturb you, only for matters of utmost importance… My apologies once again," he concluded.

_What an actor! Pretending to feel guilty, _Hermione thought angrily. Though she couldn't help but feel slightly jealous. His stuttering, innocent and nonchalant tones, the drastic change in his features, all timed perfectly to make him look honest and polite when she knew it was all an act.

"And what is it that is so important?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously. He stood there for a while, studying her reaction carefully, choosing the exact words to say, until finally the silence was broken by his smooth voice.

"I believe this is yours," he said, pulling out a thick wooden stick from his back pocket and twirling it gracefully around his long fingers. It took her several seconds to notice it was _her _wand he was holding so carelessly. "Vine wood with a dragon heartstring core, a fine wand if you ask me," Tom commented as he inched forward, handing her the wand.

She stretched out her hand hesitantly and took it cautiously, as if by touching it, her fingers would burn into flames.

"Yes, it is," she replied curtly. Tom smirked as he regained his impeccable stance. "Thank you."

"I assume you bought it at Ollivanders"

"No," she said quickly, slapping herself mentally. She obviously couldn't say she bought it there. It was obvious Ollivander remembered every customer he had ever had and if Tom went in to check, her lie would be exposed. "I bought it in a small wands store near my home."

Tom narrowed his eyes, watching her closely and finally nodded.

"Nonetheless, this isn't what I came to talk about precisely," he added tersely.

"And what do you want to talk about?" she asked nervously, expecting the worst. He remained silent for a brief moment until he finally opened his mouth.

"Dark magic is rather complex, Miss Austen. I advise you not to underestimate it. Many people might think it does not leave traces, however they do. I suggest you and Mr. Laurent go see a healer right away before you suffer a relapse."

"You seem like quite an expert in the Dark Arts department," she responded warily.

"I am merely knowledgeable of the implications involved and nothing more," he replied curtly, his hands clasped in his back.

"Yes, well thank you for your concern, but I assure you we're fine. We just need some rest, that's all, and if we're feeling worse off, then we will go to St. Mungos," she said rather haughtily, intending to hide her insecurity.

"I daresay, people there can be somewhat incompetent. Perhaps if you let me I can call a professor of mine that can revise you and your friend," he offered politely, a big fake smile adorning his features.

"There is no need for it, thank you anyway. Now if you do not mind, it's really rather none of your business," Hermione replied rudely. Her head was throbbing badly. Why did he care, anyway? He could kill her this very moment if he wanted to, but he wanted to be talkative instead?

Tom stood there silently, his jaw clenched and his grey orbs attentive to every move she made. His left hand was twitching mildly and Hermione thought that perhaps killing her was the first thing he wanted to do this very moment.

"Then I won't insist, though I must recommend you consider my advice. It was only a mere recommendation," he said, with a wide and _kind _smile dancing on his lips.

"Certainly I will, I appreciate it," she said. "Now please, don't take it as an offence but I'm really tired and I want to rest before dinner is served, is there anything else you wish to tell me?" She concluded faking a polite smile.

"Yes, now that you mention it there is," he said. "As I suppose, the brief explanation you gave Mrs. Cole about your sudden appearance outside the orphanage was nothing but a flimsy lie to cover up the truth, am I correct?"

Hermione felt her muscles freeze up slowly and her body stiffen. He suspected something.

"W-what? It was the truth, I-I got attacked," she stuttered, her voice trembling at the end.

"I believe we both know that's not the entire truth, though I don't blame you, since Mrs. Cole is clearly unaware of our 'special abilities'. It wouldn't be appropriate to tell her the whole story, but _I _know what you are, so I'm sure it wouldn't be an inconvenience for you to tell me how you came to be lying outside a muggle building? It's not every day a young, pretty lady and a boy appears unconscious in our yard," Tom concluded, his voice deceptively alluring, so enticing.

Perfect.

No, she wouldn't fall for his plans of manipulating her with his charm.

"Our home got ambushed. We had to flee from home so Grindelwald's followers could not find us," she said rapidly, trying to rummage through her mind for a believable story. She doubted he'd believe anything she came up with. He was, by far, too attentive.

"I see, and if it's not too much to ask, where did you to live?" he inquired, his eyes gleaming with eagerness.

"In France, along with Draco," she coughed out, completely immobilized in one corner, watching how Riddle analyzed her carefully, assessing each of her words. He raised a slender eyebrow slightly, his perfect mask comparable to a look of contrariety.

"How come both of you don't have an accent?"

_Quick, Hermione think._

"We moved to England when we were two years old, the muggle's stock market and all that," she mumbled, hoping he wouldn't discover her through such a flimsy lie. Tom had cleared his mask of affability and for a moment she caught glimpse of a reddish gleam cross his eyes. Hermione blinked once but his face remained impassive like if she had imagined it all.

"So, the Laurent's and your parents were close?" Hermione snapped out of her daze and stared at him confusedly. "You said you both moved to England."

_Bloody hell, seriously where was Malfoy when he was needed? _Hermione tried to soothe the frantic throbbing of her heart and took a deep breath before proceeding.

"Yes, the Laurent's were a close family to us, they lived near us, a couple of houses away. Our parents got along even before we were born, a very strong friendship indeed, and their bond increased when our mothers found out they were both expecting a girl and a boy," she said calmly, thanking the gods that her voice didn't tremble.

"I assume by the time the both of them had already arranged matrimonial plans for you two," he queried calmly, emphasizing 'matrimonial'.

"Oh no, they had odd ideas about matrimony and we have never showed any romantic affections, our parents respected that," she muttered, as she placed a wet auburn strand behind her ear. Tom composed a quick smile and gave a shallow nod. Still with his hands interlaced in his back, he strolled through the room with short strides, his back ramrod straight and his face held high, emanating an aspect of authority and grace.

"Did you attend a magical school?" he asked, turning his head to gaze at her again, one black lock fell playfully across his face. Hermione imitated his nonchalant behavior, and gazed at him blankly, trying to clear her face of any emotion that would expose how nervous she felt.

"No, magic was a delicate issue in my home. My parents didn't think magical institutions taught us everything that was necessary. They considered it best if I studied home and learn the basics things to defend myself, despite that I still like to read and memorize new charms and spells."

"And was Laurent home-schooled too?"

Hermione nodded. "Our parents shared similar opinions, including our academic purposes. We studied together."

"I see, but where are they now?"

"W-when we got ambushed, our parents weren't as lucky as Draco and I… they're dead…" her voice faded away, giving the perfect touch to her lie. Hermione lowered her gaze. _Her parents…Harry…Ron…Ginny…Luna…all gone because of the boy she had in front of her. _

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that. It must have been terrible for you," he murmured, almost imperceptibly. His hand twitched lightly.

_Liar._

"Yes, it was…" she said curtly. "Thank you."

They stood there in silence, each sifting through their own thoughts.

"What about yours?" Hermione asked suddenly, intending to sound curious and gentle, though she just wanted to interrogate him instead of him interrogating her.

Tom's face darkened for a split second. She lifted her head slowly and was taken aback by his intense gaze. His grey orbs piercing through her, almost as if he could see through her soul, but…that wasn't possible, right?

"I never met them," he replied simply, his glance never breaking from hers. It was hard to know what was really going through his mind.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be insensitive or make you uncomfortable. I'm sure it must have been difficult for you," she said, intending to sound ashamed.

"I believe it's too soon to determine someone's true character. Surely you agree with me," he implored with much derision in his tone. Hermione wouldn't be surprised to see a sneer plastered on his perfectly carved god's face if he wasn't so focused on making a good impression. She suppressed the desire to wrinkle her nose at the image. It wasn't his sarcasm that annoyed her, but the edge he put on each of his words was frankly irritating. It was as if there was something else in his observation than what it appeared to be on the surface.

"Of course, I daresay I agree. I was merely inquiring, forgive my curiosity. I cannot help it sometimes," she agreed in the same, _fake, _polite tone he had used. Tom tore his inquisitive glance from her and stared mistrustful at the clock embedded on the wall, as if it had done something terrible to him.

"It's almost six o' clock, you must get ready to attend dinner," he said curtly. "I must leave you then. You must be really tired." Hermione nodded, staring down at her fingernails. She heard his long strides against the wooden floor at his feet, the door creaking as it was opened, and the feeble sound made when it was shut. Hermione exhaled a deep breath as if she had been containing in his presence. And it was only then that she felt the weight over her shoulders disappear.

She threw herself on the uncomfortable bed, making it creak under her weight.

Had she made the right choice? What if he discovered it was all a lie? A fake story. _He would not be pleased about it for sure,_ she thought. That was when the fear overcame her mind. She let out a groan of frustration. She was a bloody Gryffindor for God's sakes! The fearless lioness, the woman of the Golden Trio. She was not, _could not be, _afraid.

She thought about the spell she had used, what it had provoked in her, and why it had brought her to this time period. An era with _a young_, _and charming, _Voldemort.

"_The spell itself its complex. It is said only a powerful wizard can accomplish it without disastrous consequences. Its result is undefined, sending the castor to the unknown, opening an new path and creating an irrespective destiny for the castor, and removing them from their current circumstances," _she repeated the spell in her head, trying to make sense of each word and attempt to figure out why they were here.

_Its result is undefined, sending the castor to the unknown. _

Well, it certainly hadn't sent her to an unknown place, since she had already known about Riddle. Harry had told her many things of Voldemort and his past. So much so, she could even write a book about it.

_Opening a new path and creating an irrespective destiny for the castor, and removing them from their current circumstances. _

So their destiny was going to change. Everything was going to change that was for sure, but…for better or for worse? Maybe she had to change something about this time? Riddle, perhaps? _But he's an evil scum, _she thought disgustedly. There was no absolute way of changing someone who had no humanity left within him. He had killed everyone she knew and loved dearly. So he probably wasn't the reason why she was here. Now she asked herself once again. _What am I doing here?_

Hermione passed her fingers through her wet hair. She let her gaze wander around the room, stopping momentarily on the window. The clouds slowly began to roll across the evening sky, what stars were visible twinkled in the autumn sky. Hermione gently grabbed the blanket over the bed and placed it around her shoulders, wrapping it around her body protectively, her nose buried deep into the fabric of the cotton sheet.

Something hammered her ears, the noise was louder and more real to her each time; unceasing pounding that she just couldn't make stop. She looked everywhere but only found a dark abyss, no exit, nothing she could see to understand she was still in the real world and yet the noise was still bothering her.

"Miss Austen, its dinner time," a voice said. Reality hit her instantly and she welcomed it as an old friend. Her eyes opened and she realized she had fallen asleep. Hermione rubbed her eyes lazily and stood up, staggering as she made her way to the door. She turned the knob and revealed Mrs. Cole, her hands clasped over her stomach.

"I'm sorry, I fell asleep," Hermione apologized.

Mrs. Cole nodded, frowning lightly.

"Now please accompany me downstairs, everyone is already waiting."

"Waiting?" she asked, confusedly.

"Yes, I'm going to introduce you and Laurent to the other children," the matron replied nonchalantly without looking at the girl.

Hermione nodded mildly and the both of them walked silently down the aisle. Mrs. Cole stopped abruptly and knocked on a door softly.

"Mr. Laurent…?" she muttered. Hermione's heart raced as she locked her eyes on the door. No response. "Mr. Laurent, it's time for dinner," the woman repeated, her bony hands grazing against the wooden door once again. After a minute passed, the door busted open and Hermione caught a glimpse of Draco for the first time since they disappeared from the forest. He seemed to have aged a lifetime in just a couple of hours. His grey eyes immediately locked onto hers. "It's time for dinner." He nodded slowly and followed them, closing the door behind him.

They walked down the stone staircases and sauntered off toward the kitchen. It was a small room. The windows were covered by some yellowed curtains, but even so pretty clean in comparison with the ones in the guest room. A large table stood in the middle of the room covered by white and mended tablecloth. The plates and cutlery were already arranged on the table as well as the children, whom were now staring at Hermione and Draco curiously. Tom was sitting in one corner, one of his hands brushing his chin as he stared at Hermione inquisitively. She glanced away from him and stared at Draco instead. He composed a weak smile; one of his blonde strands falling over his face.

"Children, I would like to introduce you to Hermione Austen and Draco Laurent, they will be attending this orphanage temporarily until they find another good place to stay. I hope you welcome them as if they were another friend of yours," Mrs. Cole said feebly, and Hermione had the feeling, all Mrs. Cole wanted was to get this over with.

As soon she was finished the orphans forced a smile and greeted them with a "Hello, Hermione, hello Draco" before going back to their plates. They sat as far as possible from Tom, but even so, Hermione could not get rid of his gaze. She ignored it and began filling her plate with food. It didn't look appetizing and she was thankful that she wasn't very hungry.

"What's this supposed to be?" Draco whispered in her ear "Vomit?" Hermione turned to face him and held out a smile. His face emanated a look of revulsion as he stared at his plate contemptuously.

"It's food and you're supposed to be eating it," Hermione mused. Draco looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

"How can I eat it if I don't even know what it is?"

"Oh just eat it, or pretend you do," she said, smiling as Draco shot his plate another mistrustful look and finally decided to eat, after saying something that sounded like 'muggles'.

Hermione shook her head lightly, smiling, and went back to her plate. But there was something that bothered her. She had the feeling that someone was watching her. Her gaze wandered through the table and stopped stunned, stiffening unconsciously.

Tom Riddle hadn't touched his plate; he had his fists clenched on the table, his gaze locked with hers so intensely, avid, it was almost as if he was reading her thoughts. Hermione's heart stopped. What if he was using Legilimency on her? Her muscles stiffened one by one. She was frozen in her seat.

She lowered her gaze quickly, trying to recall Snape's lessons about Legilimency.

"_It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly.__"_

"_It is easier to perform Legilimency when the target and practitioners' eyes meet."_

At least she would have an excuse to look away now.

"_Legilimency is easier when the spell-caster is physically near the target, and when the target is off-guard, relaxed, or otherwise vulnerable."_

"Are you okay?" Draco asked from besides her, his cold hands brushing lightly against her arm. She shook her head mildly as she tried to block her mind, to erase every thought, but it was almost impossible.

"_Hermione get away now, he's gone. Ron's g-gone; we have to go now," Harry screamed over and over again as Hermione tried to snatch her arm from his firm grip. _

"_No! He's not, Ron, wake up! Please!" Her fragile body was leaning above him, her hands holding his shirt strongly, shaking him again and again. The tears were streaming out of her eyes uncontrollably, sliding down her cheeks and slowing down to the corner of her mouth. "I c-can't lose him." _

Memoirs began to swirl in her mind and she tried to put more effort to her mental barriers. She tried to muster all her Occlumency skills, the ones she had been practicing over the past year so the Death Eaters could not sift through her thoughts so easily. She tried her hardest to clear her mind of everything. Her nails were digging hard into her palms as Draco continued touching her arm gently as if trying to, somehow, dissipate her sudden tense stance.

Her head began to pound hard and she kept her eyes on the table. This was definitely harder than it seemed, no wonder Harry could never do it right.

After a while she asked Draco under her breath.

"What is Riddle doing?" Draco seemed taken aback by her question and glanced over where he was.

"He's eating," Hermione felt her muscles relax and ventured to look at where he was. Indeed, his head was down and bent over his plate. She let her guard down and she felt herself shaking. Draco gave her a concerned look and then went back to his food.

How much did he see? How much did he know? The questions unnerved her and she was determined to stay as far as possible from Riddle as she could.

oOo

There was a brief knock on the door startling Hermione.

She rose slowly, walking towards the door and twisting the knob cautiously, preparing herself on what she would find in the other side.

"Draco," she sighed in relief, gesturing him in with her hand.

He strolled through the room and finally stopped by the window, staring out at the fleeting stars. Hermione stood right beside him silently, both not daring to break the silence that was beginning to grow between them. Instead, they watched how the stars shimmered and the moon grew bigger and bathed the sky with its silver blaze.

Finally, Draco was the one that broke the silence.

"What happened during the dinner?"

Hermione's light demeanor changed and her voice cracked. "He…Riddle was using Legilimency on me."

Draco turned to face her; his grey eyes were unreadable though his blank mask was menacing to crumble at any moment. "How do you know he was?"

"I remember what Snape told us about Legilimency clearly, apart I read facts about it," the girl croaked. "_The Legilimens have the fringe benefit, that the target's emotional state may bring relevant associated memories to the surface," _Hermione quotedas if she was reading it from a book. "He's highly skilled in Legilimency, it was to be expected he would attempt something like that after having interrogated me."

"What?"

"Before dinner he entered in my room and tried to induce me into telling him the truth," she muttered, feeling slightly ashamed of herself.

"Bloody scum!" he said angrily, his blonde hair disheveled "And did you?"

Hermione stared at him, her big brown eyes filling with tears.

"No, I didn't," she responded quietly. "I made up a story but I don't think he believed me. Herein lies the reason he bid to read my thoughts…I don't know how much he saw, I don't know how we're going to escape from him now."

"Well, I find that rather difficult since it seems you have certainly gained his attention," he mused slowly. "Let's keep it that way, it doesn't matter what he believes, we have to prove him differently. Be convincing. For now he's got some sort of advantage over us, but not for long. We have to fully gain his trust."

"Gain his trust?" she asked in utter shock. "He doesn't trust anyone, not even his most loyal followers and besides w-we could mess things up. Do you have any ideas of how many laws we could have broken by now?"

"Who cares about how many laws we've broken? We came here to escape from our current lives," he said, cocking his head to one side staring at her sternly "Wasn't it that the purpose of summoning the spell? To make a change, to change the timeline, perhaps we have to change Riddle and his ways or…kill him."

He couldn't believe what he was saying. All of his words sounded foreign to him. It was a naïve plan and they only had 0.001% of a possibility of changing Riddle; but if that meant saving everyone and his parents from a world full of malice and torture, if it meant they had to sacrifice themselves in order to provide light and good into their world again, then they would do it.

Hermione pondered his words for a moment and finally nodded weakly. It was crazy, changing someone who didn't have any humanity and a shattered soul, someone who didn't possess an ounce of remorse. It was against everything she had been taught, everything she had believed in. Changing the timeline, it definitely sounded crazy, but when the whole world had gone mad, the only thing left is to try and make sense of it again.

"Y-you're right, but it's not going to be easy," she murmured. Draco nodded his agreement slowly, listening to her intently. "It'll be dangerous, of course."

"Very dangerous," he concurred with her. Draco walked toward the bed and sat on the edge, his back straight and his gazed fixed on her. "But we have no other choice." Hermione nodded mildly, her intertwined fingers moving nervously over her stomach.

"I think we should ask Dumbledore for a place at Hogwarts," Draco said suddenly, expecting Hermione to yell at his incoherent words but he was taken aback when she nodded.

"Yes, I've been thinking about it too and I think it's the safest place we can go now." Her voice was barely above a whisper and Draco noted how her eyes began to grasp the light of brilliance that characterized them so fully before. Full of hope and decision, the fearless lioness and untamed Gryffindor was slowly starting to emerge to the surface once more. "Riddle cannot harm us as long as Dumbledore's there and we will have plenty of time to develop our plan."

Draco could tell by the tone in her voice that she was eager to have a plan again. Take part in something she was destined to do, something to prove what side she was alive again. He felt a sting in her chest. But, was he really part of her side, too? Was he good? After all this time, after having served Voldemort for two years and having seen people being tortured and killed ruthlessly, could he be considered a good person?

"If our plan works, how are we going to get back?" he asked abruptly. Would he be able to see his parents again?

Hermione paled immediately and didn't answer his question right away. Instead she just lowered her head.

Would they be able to get back? Or would they be stuck here forever? She hadn't thought of it, of course. If they proved victorious, it meant everyone they knew that had died would be alive. Neither Harry, nor Ron, nor her parents would suffer. Hermione held the locket around her neck closely to her chest, as if by doing that she could feel the warmth her friends had offered her during the hardest of times.

Now it was up to Draco and her to give everyone they loved a safe place to live, even if they couldn't be a part of it anymore. The idea of living safely and happily without fear had helped her through many of the harder times during the past year. But standing here now seemed a test of the theory that maybe she was destined to always be apart from that dream.

Draco walked to her side and put his hand on her shoulder gently. She didn't turn her head to face him, nor did he. And both stood there in silence, their silhouettes vanishing slowly as darkness closed over them. They didn't know what was to happen, their future was blurry, hanging on a tightrope. But there was something they both knew with certainty. Everything would change, including them and there wasn't anything they could do about it.

_Gosh this is horrible. I hate this chapter, it's so rushed and it's got no sense, my apologies for that. Next chapters will be better I promise. Hmmm I don't think I will be updating in a while since I have a contest in two weeks and a lot of homework. I hope you understand. Please leave a review; it doesn't take you more than one second seriously. If you want me to include something in the story send me a pm and I'll see what I can do. Thank you 333_

_Now I'm off to do homework. _


	3. We are such stuff as dreams are made on

_Hello guys, I am truly sorry for making you wait, life gets busy sometimes, but I'll appreciate it if you forgive me. I left you here chapter 3, I hope you enjoy it. There is quite a strong language in here but nothing to be scared about. I struggled so much while writing this, it's going to be a bit confusing at the beginning but you'll understand later. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything unfortunately; I am merely playing around with the characters, though I may have some sort of possession over Tom and Draco muahaha XD._

_Thanks to the reviewers. _

_Megii of Mysteri OusStranger, death wish girl, HereToRead84, I Live On A Purple Cloud, waterflower20, Edward-is-sexier-than-Mike, The Argyle Sweater Effect, smileylol, Emily Darkbow, ZombieReine2Lazy2Login, Luckylily, psalmofsummer, QueenOfWeird1995, AwesomePersonlolxx, Rue Dawn, tobelovely and abbercrombie._

_And thanks to everyone who has added this story to favorites and to alerts. I can't express what that means to me. Thanks so much. _

_Chapter three edited by the lovely Pooja (murtagh799) my amazing beta. _

_oOo_

_The room was dimly lit. The orange glow that emanated from the candles gave an oddly somber appearance to the polished marble floors, which lead to a big wooden table. There was a disproportionately large chair poised at the end of the table, almost resembling a throne. The chair itself was immaculate, no apparent flaws marring its perfection. It was constructed with white marble melded with shimmering green emeralds that gleamed eerily in the almost dark room, giving it an aspect of royalty and presumption. Tom Riddle sat upon it gracefully, staring at his companions with authority and grace. It was clear who the master was and who the follower._

"_I presume you've already gotten what you needed from the mousy girl?" one of them asked. The nasty sneer on Riddle's face widened as he starred imperiously at the boy._

"_What makes you think I needed something from her, Antonin?" he said, an amused yet sinister edge marking his tone. Antonin sneered before responding._

"_Because the girl isn't as quite interesting enough to gain your appreciation, so either you've changed your taste in acquaintances or you wanted something from her"_

_A smirk danced faintly on Riddle's lips._

"_Well Antonin, you seem to know me real well," he replied softly. Antonin stared at him with appreciation and gave a small nod in return._

"_I have to admit Tom, after all this years, you continue to be quite a riddle to some of us." The blonde at his side snickered. He had a strong jaw, but very fine features. His icy grey eyes and platinum long hair were like Draco's._

_Tom smirked at this and took a sip of his tea._

"_You haven't told us why you desperately needed that book for, Tom," the blonde muttered and immediately backed away as Tom's cold grey eyes narrowed. _

"_I don't see the need to inform you everything I do, Abraxas," he said in a dangerously soft way, sweet poison accompanying his words. The blonde took a sip of his drink, not daring to speak again. _

"_Tom, when will the meetings be when we return to Hogwarts?" a boy sitting at the edge of the table asked casually. The boy shifted lightly in his seat as he was hit by Tom's glare._

"_When I deem it necessary, Nott. There will be many things to settle this year. As prefect I have to keep my reputation and conduct my usual research. I will decide when the meetings will be in my spare time," he replied, a cold tinge marring his polite tone. He got up gracefully from his seat. "Now excuse me, I have a book to find."_

_He walked swiftly away across the marble floor._

"_Master Riddle, are you leaving so soon?" said a small elf that had appeared, following Tom to the big door._

"_Leave," the boy commanded waving his wand at the small elf without even looking at the creature. The elf was thrown away and squeaked painfully as she hit the floor._

Hermione startled awake, drenched in sweat.

She turned her head to the open window. There was a terrible storm that night; the raging wind was filtering through the window, slamming the shutters with hostility against themselves. Hermione got up shakily and with a bit effort, she managed to get the window shut securely.

She turned around, analyzing each part of her room. There was nothing out of the ordinary, just a creepy old room, but nothing and no one was watching her. It had been just a nightmare, a very vivid nightmare. She stared for a long while at her bed and the crumpled sheets. She didn't feel like sleeping now, especially not with the rain splattering against the windows and pounding against roof so hard she couldn't even hear her own breathing. Perhaps a walk downstairs would help. Maybe a small snack would also do her well. And her still hungry stomach appeared to be in complete agreement with that assessment, now that she recalled that she hadn't even had time to finish her food.

She pulled on her night gown and poked her head out the door, peering into the dim and narrow hallway. No sign of movement. She pulled out her wand. _"Lumus!" _she whispered, and a small light appeared at the tip of her wand. Hermione walked on tip toes as she crept downstairs. There was no sound or movement, apart from the incessant rumbling and thundering of the storm.

Once she had reached the bottom of the stairs, she walked slowly towards the kitchen when she heard a sharp sound coming from one of the rooms.

Hermione shut her eyes tight as she recognized the soft and enticing voice from behind her.

"Not the proper hour to be wandering off, is it?"

Hermione clenched her teeth and turned slowly to face the beast.

Riddle was sitting carelessly on a sofa, a book propped open in his pale hands. His grey eyes were dark and unreadable.

"Now do you mind to putting out your wand? I would not want to risk some prying orphan seeing that, they believe I attend to a boarding school called Hogwarts. They are completely ignorant to what we are," he concluded.

"Ignorance is bliss," Hermione scowled. Tom sneered as he inclined his head towards her wand. Her eyes narrowed to slits and she felt an uneasy feeling stir within her. "_Nox," _she mumbled under her breath and tucked her wand into her night gown.

Her eyes flickered towards the flickering candles on the table next to him, an excuse not to look at him.

"So," he started. "Mind if I ask why are you doing awake at such an hour?"

"I couldn't sleep," she replied curtly.

"May I assume it is due to the terrible storm?"

"Yes, why else would it be?" she asked, crossing her arms against her chest uneasily.

He noted her defensive posture and smirked lightly. "I don't know…nightmares, perhaps." She stared at him as her stomach twirled once again. The intensity of his stare was almost dizzying. What if he suspected? She shook her head lightly. She was over reacting, and it was only a very lucky guess, right?

"So what are _you _doing up, _Tom?" _It seemed as if he was taken aback at the mention of his name, but he quickly masked his face and cleared his stance.

"The same reason as you," he muttered shortly, his stare never breaking from hers. It was as if he wasn't referring to the storm, but more so the nightmares – his very lucky guess.

"Not a big fan of thunderstorms, either?" she asked dimly, her hands now resting in her lap.

"I've never quite enjoyed them," he replied offhandedly, a sneer plastered on his face. Hermione's brows furrowed slightly, her lips forming a tense line.

Her eyes traveled to the opened book on his lap. To break the tension that was hovering over them she asked, "What are you reading?"

He handed her the book grimly and she walked closer to take it. She stared at the cover for a while to discover it was a muggle book, but she could have never imagined what Tom would be doing with such a book.

"Tom Sawyer?" she asked with amusement. Tom grimaced at the mention of the name and shifted.

"It's from one of the orphans. I decided to give it a look, though it's not even worth the parchment it's written on." Hermione glared at him. Why had he been so tense when she said his name? _Well you might as well ask,_ she thought.

"It might appear you dislike the idea of someone else's possessing the same name as you, or am I mistaken?" It was hard to tell what he was thinking; he was a very good actor.

"It is quite a common name if you ask me. I prefer being noted by other things rather than just a name." His dark eyes darted to Hermione's.

"Other things? Such as?" She asked, unaware she was leaning towards him, her eyes gleaming with inquisitiveness. Tom chuckled, his eyes briefly glowing red.

"You do have an insatiable curiosity, but I am afraid that doesn't concern you."

Didn't concern her? It did concern her if _other things_ were a code for murder, torture, or cruelness.

"As you say, I do have an insatiable curiosity that, lamentably for you, can only be fed with knowledge."

Riddle merely raised one slender eyebrow, a smirk about to curve his lips. "It is very curious that you say that. It seems we have quite a bit in common."

"We are _not_ alike," Hermione hissed, revolted with the idea of sharing any similarity with the damned man.

"No, not alike, but with similar purposes," he said, clasping his fingers together as he always did when thinking. He continued, "When I see you, beneath all your naivety, purity and nobleness, I see someone cunning, clever, and enthralled by distinct arts. Not an inventor, nor a discoverer, but someone waiting for another to recognize such great potential and shape her into someone better. A seed waiting to be nourished and directed into the right direction, such a shame the world hasn't provided to you what you need most."

_That stupid bastard_, as if she didn't know what he was trying to do. Something boiled within her, making her whole body tense. He was trying to read her, to find her weak points, and somehow he knew he had hit a nerve as he saw her hand twitching. His lips twirled upwards flashing a row of his perfect white teeth. His grey eyes bored into hers.

_Grey_, such an unusual color, so empty and dull. It was like a mirror to Riddle's cold soul. It was like looking through a dark tunnel.

He could take everything he wanted, except her and her pride. She wouldn't give him what he wanted, not this time.

"Is it so?" she asked nonchalantly, mimicking his mannerisms. She put a barrier of indifference around her and continued, "As you said before, I believe it is too soon to determine someone's true character." She handed him the book and turned around, but just as she was about to exit the room she turned her head to him.

"Clearly you aren't just a _Tom,_" she said, noticing the brief puzzled look on his face before he managed to compose a blank mask. "You are a _riddle, _you know, the puzzle everyone tries to figure out, but they can't because there's always a missing piece. Your nice and polite façade that everyone pretends to know when they clearly don't, and they can't seem to uncover what's underneath the mask. I bet the only person who truly knows you is you." He seemed to be at loss of words. The slight twitch in his hands was the only indication of his annoyance.

Hermione straightened her back and lifted her chin. "_Goodnight Riddle,"_ she whispered as she turned around without looking back, her voice lost among the echoes. The candlelight flickered around him as she continued to walk away from their curious conversation.

He stared at her until her silhouette faded away into the darkness and he mused silently to himself. Well she certainly was…_different_. And he didn't quite enjoy different unless it involved himself. She had caught on to something. He shouldn't underestimate her, for sure.

_Hermione Austen was quite a riddle_.

He had met other woman, ladies that somehow caught his eye but to his mind they usually lacked the traits he found most desirable. And Hermione seemed to embrace them all. To him, such intellect, such greatness hidden within her was considered a menace, a threat if not used for his own benefit. And like all threats, they are to be removed.

He would just have to study her closer, do something about her.

_But not yet,_ he thought. He needed more details, something to give him the chance to manipulating her his way. He just had to dig more into her personality, figure out her weaknesses. After all, they possessed something. That is what characterized them as repugnant inferior humans, and when he would find her weak point, he would use it against her and manipulate her his way. She could probably become useful to him, a marionette, if he could only find the right strings to pull.

But she wouldn't fall for it, she wouldn't just join the dark side he was sure. But her voracious appetite for knowledge made her a vulnerable prey from time to time. He knew she wouldn't switch sides. From what he had seen, she was too kind hearted, stubborn, too selfless to go to the dark side. No, he needed to be more subtle around her, bring her a fake sense of comfort.

Sometimes all that it was needed was the simplest version of the idea to grow naturally in her mind. It was a delicate art and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity he had been given.

The girl was already in his hands. Tom smiled mischievously as he absently twirled his wand between his fingers.

oOo

His eyes snapped open, scanning nervously around his room. He felt completely disorientated and the huge throbbing in his head was starting to annoy him. He rubbed away the cold sweat from his forehead and took a deep breath before sitting up on the mattress. He looked around carefully, his mind storing through each aspect of the room.

_Fucking bloody hell!_

He had hoped it had all been a very cruel dream. No such thing as time travel, no Granger, no fucking young Dark Lord. But he couldn't delude himself that way. It was an unfortunate reality.

He was here because he was a failure. He couldn't recall one moment in the past year where he had accomplished something successfully. He couldn't remember a moment where his father had displayed any sign of satisfaction or pride for his only son's actions.

His cocky façade flinched at his own thoughts. But it was the truth.

Besides, who said he wasn't in hell right now? He clearly deserved it after such cowardice. Maybe it was just fate mocking him for his past decisions. His fatal decisions that brought him to hell with the devil himself, and he would probably have to forever stay in this shithole.

But Granger was here too.

So it couldn't be hell, at least not for her. She was the essential part of the golden trio. Fearless lioness, and the most loyal, bravest, stubborn and clever woman he had ever met, even if admitting it to himself sounded painful and ironic. Draco growled as he felt his jaw twitch lightly and the weary feeling of dizziness in his gut. The real secret was that he had always envied them, the golden trio; how they had the willful decision to choose. Choose who they wanted to be without the concern of disappointing someone along the way. How they had no future in writing, nor had to pay for the mistakes of their family. Everything had seemed so easy for them. How they always fought against the dark, fearless to emphasize where their beliefs stood.

Everything was very easy for the stupid boy who lived. And Hermione, a mudblood, someone who some thought didn't deserve to be a bearer of magic, including himself at one point. He envied how despite everything, she didn't break; her naïve and innocent soul had remained untouchable.

But what frustrated him the most was that he had disappointed his mother. Lucius had done many things that did not merit him the title of a father, but then there was his poor mother. The one that healed him when the Dark Lord punished him for his failures; the only person who tried to make him not lose himself in the midst of darkness. After all, he was her boy.

And then there was Snape, a blood traitor, a spy, but at least he was the only one that had been bound to an unbreakable vow in order to protect him, and he failed him too.

"_I would have killed him if you…" he spat coldly, snatching his arm from his firm grip. _

"_Need I remind you, you failed," Snape drawled, stopping in his tracks, facing his companion. "Now I am taking you to your mother," he said, grabbing the boy harshly by the arm. _

"_Let go of me," he hissed, moving his arm brusquely. "Why are you taking me to her?"_

"_Don't you realize what just happened?" his ex-professor snapped, turning his head to view him. _

"_Yes, you did the job I was supposed to do because of one stupid vow; you disobeyed an order from our Lord," he muttered coolly. _

"_He does not accept failure, Draco; I made a vow to protect you." _

"_I don't need protection," he spat childishly._

"_Foolish boy, should I assume you'd rather face the Dark Lord's wrath?" he queried, enunciated each of his words, his pitch black eyes clashed against his. "You seem awfully confident Draco, murder isn't as simple as it seems." _

_Draco remained quiet, trying hard not to quaver._

"_I am talking to him, you are staying outside with your mother unless he calls you, understand?" Snape said after a minute of silence. _

"_Were you expecting some sort of gratitude for this?" he sneered after a while, releasing a disgusting snort that was drowned by the sound of his old professor's palm slapping against his skull._

"_Ungrateful child, I am only doing this because of the vow and your poor mother," he said dryly. "Your constant failure to fulfill anything worthwhile has destroyed any appreciation I may have had in you." _

_The blonde flinched lightly at his words. His cool-headed mask menacing to crumble at any minute. _

"_Am I supposed to pretend I care?" He scowled nonchalantly, holding his gaze. The shield he had built since he was a child prevented him from showing any hint of emotion. After all, he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys' didn't show their feelings. They were all about structure, order and rules. But he was sick of it, so fucking sick of pretending he didn't care about anything when he knew deep down he cared. _

Draco looked at the clock; he still had 10 minutes before breakfast. He walked to the bathroom and looked into the mirror for a while, studying his reflection slowly. His skin was paler than usual and the dark bags surrounded the area under his eyes made him look older. He looked so emaciated, his appearance reflected weariness and he noted his high cheekbones were more noticeable now, in a more painful way.

Draco continued to examine each of his features closely. It was amazing, and at the same time, terrifying how he had changed so much over this last year, and not only his physical appearance, but his demeanor. He was the same as a kid, arrogant as ever. But now it seemed as if he didn't give things the usual importance he used to give them before the war.

He just went through the day, hoping it would be over before it had even begun. It was as if he was there, but simultaneously, his mind wandered in other directions. He did what he was told without bothering to argue. The barrier that had covered him completely prevented him to feel anything at all. He was indifferent to everything everyone told him; he just had himself and his thoughts. He didn't give a shit about who won the war, though now he would have preferred the light above the dark any time.

When he heard that Granger was about to be captured, something had stirred within him. Deep down he didn't want her to get caught, not because he knew she wouldn't last a day in the Dark Lord's hands, but because she resembled the last vestige of light there was left in the world. Even though it wasn't enough to defeat the Dark Lord, capturing her would mean surrender, the last bit hope thrown into the damned trash.

It was then when he decided to do something. Something he knew would probably get him killed and thrown to hell immediately, but it was a risk he would have to take. A once in a lifetime opportunity to be able to make his own decisions and pay the consequences.

He helped her. And in consequence, he was thrown back in time with a younger and more sadistically charming version of his ultimate nightmare.

Draco scowled at his reflection and buried his fingers in his platinum hair.

Everyone had enjoyed having pep talks with Draco back in 1998.

Rodolphus and Bella's talks were probably the most disturbing of all. He had met various crazy people, but those two were complete psychopaths. Was he really related to the crazy woman? They would visit him in the evenings sometimes, separately, and inform him of his duties toward the Dark Lord, and how he should be proud of being a Death Eater at such young age. That such determination could get him far and if he really cared about his destiny, he wouldn't have any sort of compassion toward anyone and destroy anything that hindered his path.

Since then he only tried to stay out of their way and avoid them as much as he could.

Honestly, he was fucking tired of all that. He didn't give a shit about what everyone said, but it annoyed him how they were all trying to meddle in his life. It made him want to pull all of his hair out and curse them all to death.

He stared hard at the mirror, as if defying his reflection to look away. He felt a sting on his left arm and stared at it, his eyes wide in horror. He pulled up the sleeve and narrowed his grey eyes, full of fear.

The mark. It stung, as if million little knives were stinging his flesh harshly. He couldn't remember the last time it hurt like this apart from when he was being called. But that couldn't be…it was impossible. He pulled down his sleeve and exited the bathroom hurriedly.

He opened the door and walked swiftly down the aisle silently, trying to control his ragged breaths. The door at his side squealed open and a kid ran out, crashing into him. The kid stared at him for a moment, his innocent features darkening suddenly as he ran down the stairs.

He couldn't possibly look _that _bad, Draco scowled. He walked down the stairs as he rolled his eyes, murmuring something unintelligibly about crappy little muggle kids and rotten attitudes.

Draco made his way into the kitchen and his left arm stung once again as he caught the eyes with the devil staring at him. He felt his legs slowly collapsing as looked away. His weight was too much for his legs to handle now, he was slipping, and soon he found himself seated in one of the chairs. Next to him was a ginger girl who was too occupied talking to the boy at her side. He drew in a deep breath and looked up. Riddle's head was down, his hand stirring indifferently his tray of food, though he thought he caught a glimpse of a smirk appearing on his face.

The Dark Lord smirking. Oh joy.

Draco went for his own tray of food, though his stomach was tied in a knot. He was sure if he ate something he would end up vomiting until there wasn't a shit left in him.

Instead, he took some charred toast and took a sip of his drink. It didn't taste better than it looked, nor did the toast. In fact, he wasn't sure if it was a toast at all.

Draco threw it carelessly back onto his plate as his mind continued to wander. It seemed as if it only was yesterday when he had been forced into becoming Death Eater. It seemed like only a few moments ago that the Dark Lord had forced him to watch how torture is properly conducted – prisoners writhing in pain, nails clawing into their won skins as if trying to rid of the pain. It might have been the Dark Lord's entertainment, but it was certainly the source of his nightmares. The pitiful screams still echoed in his ears, they kept replaying as if they were a movie without a stop button. After days on end, the pain had become too unbearable for his prisoners, so much so that they begged him…they had begged for death, the only source of relief to their pain.

His grip tightened around his fork. He tried to forget it but to no avail. He just couldn't. It seemed almost ironic that the charming young man that sat before him would become the person that led his family to ruins.

oOo

Tom didn't have a good sleep last night, especially after his encounter with Hermione, nor did he need the sleep. He was a very early riser and late nights did not affect him at all.

He stirred his fork, staring disdainfully at the grey slime on his plate. Such junk that is. Muggle junk. He couldn't even think why they started an orphanage if they could barely maintain it. Tom was about to roll his eyes until he felt a warm presence next to him. He looked up and barely smirked as he saw Hermione taking a sit next to him, her shaky hands holding her tray of food. She didn't even look at him; instead she kept her bushy head down.

_Such a curious little creature, _he though scornfully, massaging his temple.

"Good morning, _Hermione_, I pray you slept well?" Tom asked softly arching one perfect eyebrow; his voice was so…. slight, so enticing and alluring; always embracing its prisoner in his melodious words. She looked startled and she looked up, her hazel eyes bored into his. After a long moment of silence, she looked down again and stared warily at her food.

He felt a wave of rage wash over him. His cold grey eyes were still locked on her slight figure. Who did she think she was ignoring him like that? It's not as if he cared, but it annoyed him how she seemed wary of him, like if she could see through his mask and lies. He had even caught a glimpse of contempt in her eyes. Stupid girl. She was really starting to get on his nerves and now he just wanted to crucio the hell out of her. He drew in a deep breath, trying to get his temper back in control.

"You should eat," he muttered beside her as he noted she hadn't even touched her food. His sickly sweet scent overwhelmed her as he leaned into his chair.

"It doesn't quite look appetizing," she mumbled grumpily, as she swirled the food around with her fork. He snorted. A faint smirk was tugging his lips.

"It's not supposed to be," he said with so much derision in his voice she wouldn't have been surprised to see a sneer plastered on his face if she looked. "They're vitamins and carbs mixed with water, barely heated."

"Much cheaper than actual food," she concluded.

"Exactly." His hands massaged his temples as he stared at Hermione throughout breakfast. She began eating and he had the impression she wasn't breathing. Her nose was wrinkled and she continued shoving food into her mouth. He watched amusedly for a couple of minutes until he went back to his plate.

Riddle had a thoughtful expression on his face, his head cocked to one side. It was turning out to be really hard to read her. She was a closed book and he would have given everything to know what she was thinking right now. But using Legilimency wasn't going to work; he couldn't risk her sensing him using magic against her.

After a moment, her voice broke the silence.

"Is it true that we are going to London this afternoon?" He put down his fork and managed to arrange a charming smile. He looked up, one brow mildly raised._ It is only a matter of time until the lioness falls, _he sneered.

"Now, how would you know that?" She didn't glance away. Neither did he.

"I heard one girl saying it in the hallway," she replied nonchalantly.

"I see. Well, yes, it is true. Though only the oldest are allowed to go by themselves."

"So, are you going?"

"I don't think so. I have other things to attend to."

"Right." she muttered dryly, her eyes narrowing for a split moment. She turned and didn't say another word throughout the whole morning, which only irritated him even more. His features darkened; his long fingers unconsciously caressing his knife.

oOo

Mrs. Cole had allowed Hermione and Draco wander off in London on their own, so there they were. It was London for sure, just not the one they remembered. The buildings were older and so were the cars, even the people walking on the streets were different. She felt a twinge of nostalgia stab her chest. This was all wrong, all of it. Hermione closed her eyes for a few minutes, letting the autumn breeze brush against her skin. She stood steady and opened her eyelids slowly.

Draco seemed quieter than usual, but she didn't break the silence this time. Instead, she welcomed it as they both walked down the street, each sifting through their thoughts.

As they turned onto Vauxhall Road, Hermione was about to ask him to go back when she stopped as she spotted a tiny bookstore nestled in between a barber shop and a dentist office. She cocked her head lightly to one side, looking through the window. She felt her heart lessen its usual throbbing and she couldn't help but bite her bottom lip. Draco had stopped too but he didn't say a word, instead he looked up at the sign hanging on top of the store.

Too much time had passed since she had read something for leisure, nor did she want to at this point. It would just be a painful reminder of who she used to be. She turned her head to look at Draco. His eyes were unreadable; his hair mussed by the breeze. He nodded his head as if telling her to go on.

Hermione accommodated a brown lock behind her ear and took a step forward hesitantly, climbing up the three steps slowly and turned the handle. A sense of familiarity overwhelmed her as she found herself lost in the scent of new parchment and fresh books. The place was small, and the candles arranged in each corner gave it an aspect or warmth that she liked. The walls were covered by shelves full of books, each one of different size and thickness. Some of them were small and colored, while others were big and heavy. She started to examine each of them, flipping the pages carefully as if fearing to tear the pages apart.

Hermione didn't know how long she spent studying each book, nor did she notice how long the store clerk had been watching her silently from behind the counter. He was an old man, almost bald. Wrinkles covered his face like a second layer of skin and his prominent blue eyes stared at her expectantly from beneath the glasses. He kind of reminded her of Ollivander. Another stab in the chest. Oh how she missed that old man, but there wasn't a day she didn't miss a thing. She remembered her first time in Diagon Alley and how Ollivander had been really nice to her when she didn't know what to do or expect, and clearly neither did her muggle parents.

"Is there something you need in particular?" the man asked hoarsely, interrupting her thoughts.

She opened her mouth to talk but stopped immediately. Something behind the counter caught her attention. There was a crate of moderate size. Inside were a few books of various lengths. They didn't appear to be special or different at all, to be put aside in a crate, but what struck her most was the one that most stood out. It was the first book in the pile. It was covered in black leather, closed by a brass buckle and nothing more, simple as that. But there was something that intrigued her, a hint of familiarity, though she couldn't quite put her finger on. The man followed Hermione's gaze and looked back at her.

"You like that one, don't you?" he murmured, though she didn't say anything. Hermione didn't notice that she had gotten closer to the counter until she was face to face with the man. "Well they've been sitting in my shelves for ages so I just passed it to that crate. I was going to return it but I might as well let you have that one for free." She turned her attention back to him.

"For free? I can't…I…"

"Just take it, nobody has been interested in buying it so it's yours. Now take it or I might change my mind about the no-cost thing," he said amusedly. He took the book from the crate and handed it to Hermione. She took it hesitantly, not knowing if it was the right thing to do. Why was he so eager to get rid of it? Maybe it was cursed. She slapped herself mentally. It's a muggle, common book. Nothing is out of the ordinary. _The man is just being polite, Hermione, _she said to herself.

Hermione thanked him twice before leaving the store with a puzzled expression on her face. It was a simple and ordinary diary, the pages were blank. Didn't have anything special, so why had it caught her eye if it was so simple? Maybe it reminded her of something, but she couldn't fathom what.

When she arrived outside, Draco was nowhere to be seen. "Draco?" she quavered.

"In here," his voice came from the dark. She looked around and finally spotted him sitting on a bench. She walked towards him shakily, guarding the diary in a bag the man had given her. Draco didn't notice the diary, instead he kept looking around nervously, his grey eyes narrowing for a split moment.

"What is it?" she asked, looking around too. London at night gave her chills, the lights above them flickering almost imperceptibly.

"I thought I saw something," he responded shortly. Finally, he looked back at her. "We should go, this place creeps me out."

It was late when they arrived at the orphanage. They entered quietly in case everyone was already in their respective rooms, but they were startled when they heard voices coming from Mrs. Cole's office.

"And what is the reason for your late visit, professor? Has Tom gotten into trouble?" Mrs. Cole asked, taking a sip of her tea as she sat behind her desk.

"Oh not at all, not that I know of, of course," the aforementioned voice said amusedly. Tom who was at his side, faked a smile, his calculating and cold eyes scrutinized the old man disdainfully. "I am aware you just received two guests in your orphanage, am I correct?"

"Well yes, but how…Oh, here they are actually," she said, as Draco and Hermione stood completely exposed before the door. Tom cocked his head, arching one disinterested eyebrow, his hands clasped together behind his back. Hermione suddenly felt suffocated by his glare. More pressingly, she felt her world spin as she caught a glimpse of her ex head master alive. Well of course he was alive in this era, but she still thought her eyes were deceiving her. She wanted to go give the old man a big hug. It felt so nice having someone she knew near her, apart from Draco.

Her heart was pounding. He wasn't the Dumbledore she remembered. His hair and beard were shorter and auburn. His face was less wrinkled, though his blue eyes had the same sparkle beneath the half-moon spectacles.

"Hermione…Draco, this is professor Dumbledore, one of Tom's professors," Mrs. Cole announced, though neither Hermione nor Draco responded. Both seemed to be muted and frozen.

"Would you mind if I speak to them alone, Julia?" Dumbledore asked gently without glancing away.

"Of course not. Do try not to take too long, they need their rest," she said curtly, before exiting the office with her coffee. Tom, on the other hand, didn't go away, instead he kept immobile, his eyes locked on Dumbledore. The professor caught his gaze and his lips turned upwards softly.

"Tom, do you mind waiting outside? There is a very important matter I need to discuss with our friends here." Riddle had a condensing sneer on his face, his eyes glaring at his old professor.

After a short while he responded icily, "Of course." Tom turned around and slipped out the room elegantly.

"Please do have a seat," Dumbledore said pleasantly as he sat in Mrs. Cole chair. Hermione gave Draco one look before taking a seat ungracefully. Draco blanched imperceptibly. He was probably the more nervous of them two; seeing Dumbledore there, sitting carelessly in front of him resulted in terror. The old man that offered him solace and protection, even in his gravest hour, was now before him. His ability of forgiveness and seeing the good in others had turned out to be the path to his downfall.

Draco slipped into his seat shakily.

"I would surely offer you some tea, but seeing as I don't find myself in my office I can't take the liberty to do so," he said with the familiar twinkle in his eyes. Hermione composed a shy smile as she played nervously with her fingers. "You must be wondering what matters I have to discuss with you, Miss. Austen and Mr. Laurent." They both flinched lightly at the mention of _'their names', _though Dumbledore did not seem to notice their commotion.

"You are probably wondering what I am doing here. Let me explain myself," he began. "I am Albus Dumbledore, professor of transfiguration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Hermione wondered how Dumbledore knew they were wizards. It seemed this Dumbledore and the one they had known weren't so different after all. He seemed to know everything.

"P-professor," Hermione stuttered, shifting lightly in her seat. "If you'd let me...How do you know we are…"

Dumbledore smiled warmly, leaning back in his chair. "Armando and I detected the use of magic from this orphanage; of course we did not think Tom would be the cause since he already knows what would happen if the ministry detected underage magic, so I came to the conclusion that there might be another magical being in the orphanage. It caused quite a bit of confusion, of course, so I made my way here to investigate the source. Surely, I was surprised to find out there were two," he chuckled, though Hermione knew he wasn't surprised at all. Dumbledore had never showed any hint of shock even in the past, regardless of if he always said he was surprised or not. Draco looked stunned, though the man did not overlook this as he concluded. "One magical being can sense the presence of his equal."

"So, if you already know we're…wizards," Hermione started shyly, "Then what is it you wanted to talk to us about, professor?"

"Ah," he replied, smiling happily triumphantly. "I've came to offer you a place at Hogwarts, of course. If you accept," Dumbledore concluded with a wink. Hermione had the strange sensation he knew more than what appeared.

"Why?" Draco asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Why?" Dumbledore repeated, as he joined his fingers together. "A wise question and simple at the same time, but can it answer the deepest doubts cornered in our minds?" Draco's brow arched even more. Hermione's expression mirrored his. "Hogwarts is a great home to those who lack one, and especially a great place to research when you do not know where to start."

Again his words seemed to have a distinct edge, a second meaning that neither Hermione nor Draco could fathom.

"I'm sorry, professor, but I don't think I'm following you," the girl replied feeling extremely dumb.

He leaned back, looking completely at ease at her nescience.

"Time is the strangest thing," Dumbledore began, causing them to flinch and look at each other uneasily. "I must let you know I am highly skilled in Legilimens." His countenance drastically turned serious.

He knew.

_He knew they were time travelers,_ they both thought, panicking. Hermione turned to look at Draco and nodded her head slightly. Dumbledore was a safe harbor and so was Hogwarts. It's not like he was going to tell anyone.

Hermione sighed and turned to face her professor. Dumbledore focused his eyes on her and inclined his head slowly.

"How?" he asked. She knew exactly what he was referring to. She rummaged in her mind for the right words.

"We…used a spell and got thrown in this time."

"I see. Time travel has always been a rather complex bit of magic and a very interesting concept. I've never seen a case where two young wizards employed advanced magic to travel through time, there must have been a very special reason."

Both Draco and Hermione remained silent, and this time Draco broke the silence.

"There was," he replied stiffly, shifting uncomfortably. Seeing as neither of them offered any more information, Dumbledore spoke for them.

"Then I must not interfere. I just must warn you, no one can know you're true self or slip any information that is to happen in the future, not even myself, do you understand? It is of the utmost importance." They both nodded slowly. "I will talk to Armando, the headmaster of Hogwarts and we can say we will offer you a temporal stay at the castle due to Grindelwald's war. We do not leave students unprotected in times like this."

In the mean time I'll give you the necessary money to pay for your school materials, you will be attending…"

"Fifth year," Hermione said quickly. Dumbledore nodded and continued.

"Fifth year, I will have Tom accompany you to Diagon Alley tomorrow since you will be attending the same year as him." They both flinched but didn't say a word. "I also have no doubt that due to the power of the spell you used, I am sure your minds will be suffering side effects," he finished.

Hermione nodded and Draco swallowed imperceptibly.

"I better go, it's getting late, but I'll expect you to be at King's cross on September 1st. I will talk to Julia, Mrs. Cole, about it tomorrow." Dumbledore stood up and gave them a kind smile as he headed to the door. Before pushing it open he turned around and glanced at Hermione.

"Oh and Miss. Austen, one more thing you should know." She stood slowly without taking her eyes off Dumbledore "There is good and bad in all of us, but we can overcome the dark if we remember to turn on the light."

After that enigmatic comment the old man turned around and walked out the room swiftly. Tom was waiting outside, his countenance unperturbed. Dumbledore smiled when he saw him and said, "Tom, I forgot you were still waiting, but that could be expected from an old man like me," he said happily. Tom immediately faked a smile and nodded politely. "Would you accompany Miss. Austen and Mr. Laurent to Diagon Alley first thing in the morning, Tom? The same school materials as yours."

Tom narrowed his obsidian, cold eyes dangerously for a split moment, but quickly composed his nice façade once again "Yes sir," he managed to say. Dumbledore smiled once again and dissaparated. Mrs. Cole was nowhere to be seen.

Draco and Hermione had gotten out of the room as well and intended to go to their rooms when Tom stopped the girl.

"I had no idea Hogwarts accepted foreign students," he muttered, his voice dangerously soft. Hermione skin shivered as she turned her head to see him. Draco had already gone upstairs.

"I wasn't aware either, though it was a nice of Dumbledore to offer us a place to stay due to the war, don't you think?" she responded promptly, her eyes glaring staggers at him. "I suppose we'll see each other more often." He smirked, his eyes studying the small bag in her hand.

"What do you have there?" he asked. Hermione lowered her gaze to the bag and then to him again.

"A diary, I got it in London, a man gave it to me." She felt weird under Tom's scrutiny, and unknowing what made her do it, she said, "You can have it, you'll probably give it a better use than I." He stared at her with an expressionless glare and after a while he extended an arm. She slapped the book in his hand roughly, attempting to make his arm waver but it didn't move an inch. She saw a faint sneer plastered on his face as he walked away from her.

She didn't know why she had given him the diary. Maybe it had been an excuse to get him off her back. Maybe it had just been stupidity. But... what wrong use could Tom give the diary? Well he _is_ Lord Voldemort. She kept silent for a moment, wondering why she felt so uncomfortable by having given him the book. She climbed the stairs as her thoughts wandered into a different direction. Dumbledore's enigmatic words had intrigued her. She thought of what he could probably have meant, though nothing came to mind.

oOo

Tom came to his room, rather tired, although he didn't feel like sleeping tonight. He sat in his bed, making the mattress creak under his weight. He put the diary aside as his mind began to wander.

So they were attending Hogwarts now. He felt a pang of irritation, but he wasn't sure what else he felt about it. It was true the girl was annoying as hell and he felt the constant need to shut her mouth since he had met her. She didn't seem quite fond to him, either.

When he looked into her eyes, he could see the contempt pooled within them. It looked as if she wanted to kill him. He hadn't seen such rage reflected in someone else's eyes, except in his own.

It was like she knew even more than what she pretended to. Maybe she was smarter than he gave her credit for. Either way, he had to find out the truth and he could be very persuasive when needed to be, though she didn't seem like the kind of shallow girl that fell for a flirtatious look. She didn't even seem to take much time on her aesthetics, but perhaps she knew that in life the most important things were knowledge and power, and aesthetics weren't so important at all.

On the other hand, there was also his plan. He needed to develop his plan throughout this year, and he couldn't let her nosy attitude interfere in his affairs.

Tom leaned back against his pillow thoughtfully. She was clearly a force to be reckoned with. Not a match for him of course. But perhaps, he could guide her into the right direction. At his side, the Austen girl could prove herself to be a very valuable asset…

A weak and vulnerable creature with an insatiable curiosity she was. As he had considered earlier, he would continue to observe her behaviour. He needed to figure out which string to pull first, and then she was his.

As for Laurent, Tom didn't see much of a future in him. He recognized power when he saw it and that he saw in Hermione, but Draco… he could be useful to extract information from, just a couple of torture sessions and he would bend and spill the truth. Maybe he was an easier target than Austen, he mused.

He felt a sadistic anticipation for the torture that Laurent would surely suffer. His spidery-long fingers were intertwined together as he half closed his eyes, his feautures darkening for a split moment.

oOo

_Hey guys, so what do you think? A bit confusing huh? Yeah well I do hope it intrigues you, and please tell me what you think about it. Next chapter it's Diagon Alley. Tell me what you think please! And sorry for making you wait again. And Tom's plans will be revealed later, don't get too excited haha. _

_R&R_


	4. There 's daggers in men's smiles

_A/N: Hey guys, hope you missed me because I did miss all of you. So I am starting school on Monday and have been very busy, I will try to write next chapter during my spare time, you know, when I don't have much homework and stuff. _

_I really hope you enjoy!_

_Thanks to my lovely and super amazing beta Pooja (murtagh799) for editing this chapter and giving me suggestions and ideas. Visit her page and send her all my love. She is amazing! _

_And thanks so everyone who reviewed. You're awesome! _

_**Disclaimer:**__ I seriously don't own anything, all belongs to J.K Rowling except for the plot which is all mine! _

Hermione woke up early the next day, having already forgotten about the diary incident and her meeting with Dumbledore. She felt like she had barely slept at all. She could see a few beams of light beginning to fill the sky with its luminosity, indicating it would soon be morning.

She tightened the grey blanket around her body, noticing the cold sweat covering her.

It was then when the '_Riddle Dream'_ —as she had taken to calling it —made itself known in her mind. His voice resounded painfully in her ears, sending shivers down her spine. Authority punctuated each of his words, though there also seemed to be an indescribable edge to his voice.

It didn't quite seem like just a dream to her, it felt more as if it was a memory. It held such a livid quality, something she couldn't describe… something that her mind could not have come up with on its own. Though such an assumption was probably pure foolishness. It couldn't be a memory, because she wasn't in it, and thank heavens she wasn't. There was no way she could have another person's memory inside her head.

She wondered if it could possibly mean something, although such an idea seemed insane. Hermione shook her head. Dreams and its interpretations were considered part of Divination, and she considered the subject to be completely inexact and a total waste of time.

She drew in a deep breath, looking around blankly. The silence was beginning to burden her. She clutched her knees against her chest and stared at the window hopelessly. She still felt the uneasiness stirring from within, though she still couldn't figure out why she felt that way.

It had been quite some time since she had been able to produce sufficient answers for the quandaries of her life. In the past, it had been as easy as going to the library and searching for solutions. But much time had passed since then, and now she knew books did not hold the answers for everything. Harry was a proof of that. He had been a bright wizard, loyal, brave; he possessed every quality worthy of a Gryffindor.

But where was her inner Gryffindor now? She was supposed to search for the light even in the darkest of times. So where was the light now? Where was the last beam of light that assured her even a small hint of hope, hope that she and Draco would succeed?

Hermione inhaled deeply, watching the sun make its trek across the sky. If she had waited so long hidden in the dark during this past year, then she could wait a little longer. It didn't matter how long it would take her, she wouldn't give up. She and Draco would succeed. If they couldn't change Tom Riddle for the good, then they would have to kill him.

Hermione swore to herself she would be brave, just like Harry had been along with all the innocent people that died in the war. She was clever and no matter how her heart twisted at seeing that monster before her, despite the fact that her need for revenge grew stronger each time, she would not allow herself to get carried away by her impulses. Hermione wouldn't crumble or give him the answers he needed. She and Draco would play his game and kill him when the opportunity arises.

But something deep down told her that killing the future Dark Lord wasn't going to be easy.

oOo

After breakfast they headed to London and the Leaky Cauldron.

Apparently Dumbledore had spoken to Mrs. Cole—_When?_ Hermione didn't know— but the matron let them go accompanied by Tom to get their school supplies.

Both Hermione and Draco had gotten a letter with the Hogwarts' emblem.

_Dear Ms. Austen and Mr. Laurent,_

_Professor Albus Dumbledore— professor of transfiguration—has informed me of your current situation. While we have never accepted foreign students to our school, viewing the increasingly difficult times of war, I am willing to offer you both a place in our castle. Professor Dumbledore has informed me of your parents' deaths and I give you my most sincere condolences. _

_I do hope, as a Headmaster, both of you find the castle to your liking and comfort. I request that you meet me in my office directly after the sorting feast after your arrival to Hogwarts so that we may attend to all necessary details. _

_Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts express will leave from King's Cross platform 9 ¾ at exactly eleven AM. _

_As I have been informed you do not possess any monetary funds of your own at the moment, we will supply a special fund for you to obtain all materials required for your stay at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _

_You will find a list of all necessary supplies and books enclosed, along with a note for the Goblins at Gringotts in order to obtain the gold needed. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Armando Dippet_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts_

When they finally reached the Leaky Cauldron, Riddle opened the door for them. Hermione scowled and walked in. She had forgotten how it looked like after all this time. The place was small and held an air of comfort. It was dimly lit and Hermione spotted some ogres sitting in an obscure corner. There were a group of witches sitting near them and quickly started murmuring as they walked past them.

Tom—the barman—was polishing a cup when he looked up and spotted them. Before he could offer anything they were startled by the sound of a very familiar voice.

"_Tom?_"

Tom smiled mechanically. He turned his head, closely followed by Hermione and Draco.

Both of them flinched slightly.

"Professor Slughorn."

Draco glanced over at Hermione uneasily as she stared at her old professor.

He was wearing an embroidered velvet coat with gold coloured fastenings. He wasn't as rotund as they remembered and he wasn't bald either. In fact they were quite disconcerted at seeing his thick and shiny straw-colored hair. His mustache was gingery-blond and it was less massive than it was back in their time.

"M'boy, what are you doing here?" asked Slughorn astounded. "You haven't been waiting until the last moment to buy your books, have you?"

Tom chuckled lightly. "Of course not, sir—why do that if I have enough spare time to do so?"

Slughorn chuckled.

"Very well, m'boy. It's good to see you, good to see you!" he said as he took a sip of his drink. He peered over Tom's shoulder and noted Hermione and Draco for the first time (whom had remained silent and immobile as they threw each other furtive glances). The professor studied them with curious eyes.

"And who might you be?"

Hermione smiled shyly. "I-I'm Hermione Austen…and this is Draco Laurent."

Slughorn's eyes widened "Laurent? Was your grandfather, by any chance, Callum Laurent?—from the International Confederation of Wizards?"

Draco seemed taken aback by his intense gaze.

"Er— no, I'm afraid not."

Slughorn almost seemed disappointed but covered it with a brief smile. "Oh, such a shame that is—outstanding wizard he was!"

Malfoy neither moved nor spoke. Hermione was shifting uncomfortably by his side though Slughorn didn't seem to notice as he turned to Tom instead.

"Anyhow, as you're here, I would be extremely delighted if you could join me for a drink."

"Oh professor, I am afraid we haven't got much time for…"

"Nonsense Tom, I shall not keep you too long," he said jovially. "What's a few drinks? It could also bring me time to get to know your friends better."

_Friends._

Hermione and Draco grimaced imperceptibly whilst Tom managed to keep his handsome face blank, his lips twitching lightly into a smile.

"Very well, sir," he said flatteringly.

"Marvelous—Tom …?" said Slughorn, now referring to the landlord.

"Yes, professor?"

"Bring us a pot of tea, please."

"Right away, professor"

Slughorn turned back to them. "But sit down, sit down please!" he said, gesturing to chairs near them. Probably where he had been sitting before they had entered the pub. Hermione settled down, feeling something tickling her skin and her insides twirling, making her feel nauseous. Draco sat down gracefully, his jaw clenched.

"Now tell me, what brings you here if not to buy your school supplies?" asked Slughorn, focusing his attention on Tom once more. "I don't think I've seen your friends before…"

"Well, I think I might just start from where I should sir," Tom began to explain with certain wariness in his tone " Both Ms. Austen and Mr. Laurent appeared unconscious and injured four days ago near the orphanage and I brought them inside…"

"Merlin's beard! That's horrible," interrupted Slughorn, aghast. "What, with the war prevailing—I could only imagine what would have happened if Tom hadn't found you"

Tom smiled shyly "Surely someone else would have sir."

"Don't be so modest boy," Slughorn replied giving him a pat on the back. "In such hard times we are living, I would find it very unlikely someone would risk rescuing strangers from the street, Tom."

Riddle had an endearing shyness on his face as he composed a smile.

It was amazing how foolish Slughorn was, how they all were, believing Riddle's lies and acting so easily.

"As I was saying…somehow professor Dumbledore became aware of their magical abilities and had _a_ talk with them yesterday. He offered them a stay at the castle, given the increment of the war," he said quietly, as if questioning himself _why_ Dumbledore gave that sudden and odd offer to complete strangers. But then again, the old man had a sort of fascination in helping the needy.

"Ah," Slughorn said absently. "Good old Albus—it's like the years had passed in vain. I still recall our earliest years as colleagues. Good times, good times!— I think I'm becoming a bit sentimental, never mind me—Albus seems as if nothing can escape him, extraordinary man he is."

Hermione gave him a shy, brief smile, whilst Draco seemed to find himself in a very uncomfortable situation.

A flicker of annoyance passed over Tom's face, but he suppressed it masterfully before anyone could notice.

"Now I am guessing you are here to buy your books, am I right?" asked Slughorn, now turning his attention to Hermione and Draco.

"Er—yes."

"Fifth year," Draco hastened to say before Slughorn could ask anything more.

"Ah, looks like you will be coursing Tom's year, as well," he said happily. "Isn't that marvelous Tom?"

He turned to face Riddle, a smirk plastered on his face. Tom nodded slightly, glancing over to Draco and Hermione. "It is, sir." The girl flinched at his intense gaze, amusement clear in his dark features, as if enjoying a private joke. She looked away hastily, playing unconsciously with her fingers.

At that moment Tom the innkeeper appeared with a tray of tea. He placed the tray on the table, beamed, and then left.

Slughorn started pouring tea to his cup. "Tea anyone?" Hermione and Draco nodded cautiously as the professor started serving tea.

"Good gracious," he exclaimed, startling the two of them. "But where are my manners! I haven't introduced myself properly, have I? Do not think badly of me now, I don't know where my mind has been lately. I'm Horace Slughorn, current potions teacher at Hogwarts."

Hermione composed a smile. "It's a pleasure, sir." Draco nodded in agreement.

Slughorn smiled over the rim of his teacup. Neither knew what to say next.

"What is it that brings you to Leaky Cauldron, professor?" asked Tom after a short while, his expression shrewd. Slughorn turned to his student and stared at him, his large round eyes scrutinizing him intently.

"Oh, well I've just came from Diagon Alley, m'boy. The prices are sky-high for a few bottles of dragon blood and unicorn hair at the moment…couldn't let the opportunity go waste, could I?"

Tom smiled charmingly. "Of course not, sir, a good decision indeed. I am aware dragon blood is quite sought lately and given a fairly good price for those who posses them. I've also heard dragon liver and horn, especially the powdered horn of a, I believe it was called, a Romanian Longhorn is highly valuable these days."

Slughorn nodded proudly.

"Indeed, they are! You never fail to impress me boy with all your knowledge. But then again, you are more knowledgeable than half of the students, you are."

Tom merely smiled; an endearing dimple appeared on his cheek.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and exchanged looks with Draco.

Something on a table near them caught her eye. It wasn't the one eyed witch, neither was it the leprechaun sitting next to her, but what was resting in her hands. It was the Daily Prophet. Hermione squinted. Draco followed her gaze as he intended to read the headline as well.

_August 27, 1942._

_Albanian Ministry Succumbs to Grindelwald_

Tom whom had been watching her throughout their time at the Leaky Cauldron, was now too staring at the newspaper.

"What's that all about?" Draco asked sharply. Slughorn, whom had been too occupied serving himself more tea, looked up, following the direction to their gaze.

Slughorn gulped as he stared at the burning village in the moving black and white photo below the headline.

"People are speculating, what with the Albanian Minister of Magic surrendering and all, it is said the ministry didn't want to make it public in the Daily Prophet to not scare people more than they already are…"

He said shakily.

"—It looks like Grindelwald's planning to invade Britain and soon, according to the minister. It was to be expected he would try something, likely after having almost all Europe under his regime. It is known he and his forces are attempting to have Holland under their control very soon…

"Of course, the Ministry was right of not letting too many things slip, since people are starting to panic, not only wizards but muggles too. You see, it is said the only thing keeping him from attacking is the only person Grindelwald has ever feared—"

Tom raised an eyebrow.

"You mean Professor Dumbledore?"

"Indeed, m'boy. I fear if he attempts to attack there will be no choice but an imminent duel between them—"

Something in Hermione's mind snapped. She remembered having read something about it. Dumbledore confronted Grindelwald in 1945 in a legendary duel and prevailed in the end. Afterwards Grindelwald was imprisoned in his own prison, Nurmengard. But they still were two years away from that occurrence, so there wasn't anything to worry about for now—why was the ministry fussing?

After saying goodbye to professor Slughorn, they went out into the backyard. Riddle took out his wand and tapped the third brick from the left above the trash bin. They stood back as the archway into Diagon Alley opened.

Surprisingly enough, Diagon Alley hadn't changed much, except for the vendors.

It was crowded with wizards and witches of all ages. Everyone was dressed in purple, green, and other exotic robes with crazy patterns. They were all—as Hermione assumed—doing their last minute shopping.

Hermione looked around, storing each aspect of Diagon Alley in her mind. She remembered when she had come here for the first time with her parents. She used to be so amazed, and now she could sort of relive the emotions she had felt back then. Her stomach gave a twist as she continued to walk with Draco, completely ignoring Tom.

For Draco, it had been quite the contrary. He had never enjoyed buying his Hogwarts supplies. The stores were all the same in the future, the same displays with just a few changes here and there. He would have preferred sending some House-Elves to buy what he needed. But as much as he hated spending his afternoons in Diagon Alley and was sure that there wasn't anything that would caught his attention, shopping with his parents at least meant a present for him.

Tom, on the other hand, didn't say a word as he was immersed in his thoughts. Was it possible that there was going to be a duel between Grindelwald and the old man? If there was, he hoped Grindelwald would prevail. He wouldn't mind seeing Dumbledore's charred, dead corpse on front page of the Daily Prophet, but then again, it would bring him greater satisfaction if he were the reason of his demise. Perhaps, if his plans resulted victoriously this year, the man would live no more. He smirked, satisfied with this thought.

They had to make their way through the crowd. At their right, there was a pet store; the owls were hooting excitedly, there were bats flapping their wings, cats purring, snakes hissing and a big group of people clamored for the store's entry smacking one another.

"—I can't believe I am finally getting my own owl—"

"—speak for yourself. I think I'm getting a cat—"

"—if you get an owl, you can write to me when we're away—"

"—you're right—"

Although, most of the buzz was coming from a store below, where a big group of teenagers were huddled around something Hermione couldn't see. She stretched her neck and was able to catch a glimpse to what appeared to be the source of their commotion. A broomstick. She never really understood the appeal of Quidditch and broomsticks, but apparently it meant a big deal to everyone. Even Draco had stopped and edged his way inside, accompanied by Hermione whom squeezed in among all the excited wizards and witches until she could see it better.

"—I heard it's the fastest broom ever made—"

"—I heard the Scottish international Quidditch team has ordered seven of these—"

"—they're favorites for the finals, aren't they?—"

"—with ones like these they will surely become champions this year—"

Draco frowned. "A shooter? The _fastest_ broom? This is an antique."

"Shh," whispered Hermione as she looked around. Thankfully no one had heard them as they were still enthralled with the broomstick. "Well what did you expect? A _firebolt_?—it's obvious, a shooter is the _newest_ broom in this time…"

"I didn't know you were the Quidditch type."

Hermione flushed "I—I'm not—I've only read about it."

Draco rolled his eyes "How very likely of you—still, you went to the games, didn't you?"

"Well y—yes…the fact I don't play it doesn't mean I don't enjoy watching it," she joked.

They made their way out of the small crowd and met Tom who had been watching them from afar. Hermione had the impression he hadn't had lost them out of sight for a moment.

The kept walking until they finally stopped in front of a big snowy-white building that rose well above the tiny stores. There were two goblins at the entrance, both clad in a crimson and gilded uniform.

_Gringotts_.

The three of them passed through a set of bronze doors and then through a set of silver ones before entering the lobby. They were greeted by hundred of goblins seated on high stools behind long counters, stretching along the length of the hall. Some of them were closely inspecting some odd stones, some transparent and others quite colorful, while others were scribbling down notes on a large parchment, or weighing coins on a big scale.

It was just as they remembered.

They stopped in front of a counter where a spectacled goblin was revising what appeared to be a long list of numerals in a big black-leathered book. His index finger was scanning the page while he read and then scrabbled down something quick on a piece of parchment beside him.

"Er—Good morning," Hermione said quietly intending to get the goblin's attention. "I—I need to enter a vault."

By the way she said, it sounded more like a question than an order.

The goblin seemed to not have heard them because he kept reading without noting their presence.

Draco appeared annoyed as he tapped his foot uneasily. Though it wasn't exactly the goblin's nescience what frustrated him most, but the odd sensation of the fifteen year old version of Voldemort, who's his gaze had been locked in his back since they entered the building.

"Do you have your key?" asked the goblin with a monotone voice, without looking up to see them.

"Er—well I have a letter from Professor Albus Dumbledore and Headmaster Armando Dippet," she said shyly.

The goblin raised his head and narrowed his eyes for a split moment, then extended one large hand. Hermione stuttered for a moment and then handed him the letter.

He read it cautiously.

"Everything seems to be in order," he said after a moment. "I will have someone accompany you. Aelfwine!"

Soon, another goblin appeared. It was smaller than the first goblin, but it had the same shrewd expression and long feet and hands.

Tom stared disdainfully at the creature as if it was something gross he'd found under his shoe.

Hermione heard the other goblin murmuring something unintelligible to Aelfwine.

"A letter…special fund for them…Dumbledore…Hogwarts special vault…"

Those were the only words she managed to hear before Aelfwine guided them to one of the doors. They left the big lobby and found themselves in a narrow stone passageway, dimly lit by torches. They hopped into a small cart, which immediately launched them into the dark tunnels.

Left. Right. Down. Right. Up. Left. She had a hard time keeping her eyes open. They were going so fast through what seemed like a maze that she could only see blurry images. Draco suddenly became nauseous and thanked heavens he had not eaten anything for breakfast.

Tom didn't seem to be affected by how fast they were going, however. His eyes didn't flicker by the gusts of wind unlike Hermione's. On the contrary, he kept them wide open, scrutinizing the darkness with apprehension.

He recalled his early years, when he was eleven and went to Diagon Alley for the first time—alone of course. He didn't need anyone to help him when he was perfectly capable in doing it on his own. He had seen Gringotts and instantly knew there were magnificent things hidden in the vaults within. Everyone who owned a key to a Gringotts' vault had gained his envy instantly. To him, it was a symbol of belonging to the Wizarding world, a distinctive trait of being a true wizard.

Hogwarts had a special vault with a small fund for him to attend school and to buy his supplies—Austen and Laurent were probably using money from the same vault. Was that what the letter was about? Was it similar to the one Dumbledore had given him when he had been eleven?

They had just gone through an underground lake and then took a swerve to the left.

Hermione wondered if Riddle had ever had a vault, but then she recalled Harry's words from a year and a half ago.

_"He never had gold there when he was younger because nobody left him anything," said Harry. "He would have seen the bank from the outside, though, the first time he ever went to Diagon Alley."_

Before she could ponder on the subject, the cart stopped abruptly.

She saw Draco getting out, his face sickly pale. He looked as if he was about to throw up. Hermione was next to get out. She had to hold onto Draco to stop the dizziness, her legs began trembling. Afterwards, Tom stepped out gracefully as he arched one perfect eyebrow. "Are you feeling well, Ms. Austen?"

She scowled and let go of Draco. "Yes," she replied curtly.

Aelfwine placed one finger on the door and the vault opened. The goblin stepped in and grabbed two medium sacks and handed them to Draco and Hermione. "This is all that will be needed according to Hogwarts."

They both took each sack without saying a word and went back into the cart. Hermione didn't hesitate this time as she closed her eyes to avoid the motion sickness.

After having adjusted their eyes to the sunlight, they walked down the Gringotts steps wondering where they would go first.

"I recommend you go buy your robes first," said Tom, pointing at a small store ahead. It was where Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions should've been, except now it was named _'Wynn's marvelous robes emporium'_.

At the shop, they were attended by a tall, thin, and odd looking witch, who they thought might be Ms. Wynn herself. Hermione watched as a measuring tape flew around her body, taking measures at different angles.

Tom began pacing around the shop without taking his eyes from them.

Beside Hermione stood Draco on a stool, who was going through the same procedures.

There were suitable robes for them that just needed minor adjustments. Ms. Wynn started to set Hermione's robes right. When she was done with the hems, Hermione was discharged from the stool, leaving to attend to Draco.

"Just hold still, dear," the woman said as she started to put pins in his robe.

"Wait," snarled Draco after a while, making the witch flinch. "What are you doing?"

"Well, what does it look like boy? I am trying to fix it. Now lift up your sleeve…"

Hermione, who had been paying for her robes now stood next to Riddle as she frowned.

Draco looked uncomfortably at the witch—scared almost.

Then something stirred in Hermione's mind. _Left arm_…_the Dark Mark_. If he pulled up the sleeve, Riddle would see it.

"Is there something wrong with your arm Laurent?" asked Riddle suspiciously, looking baffled.

Hermione flinched, clenching her teeth. Draco refused to lift his sleeve and swallowed hard. He shook his head brusquely before getting off the stool ignoring Madame Malkin's scolding.

Hermione looked at him as he stormed out of sight, losing himself among all the witches and wizards who were at the shop. Two minutes later he came back carrying a small bag with his robes.

Once they were out of the shop they continued their way down. Riddle continued to stare at them intently, recalling Draco's horror when Ms. Wynn asked him to take up his sleeve.

_Could he possibly be hiding something?_ He mused inwardly, _was there something he didn't want anyone to see? _

They went to the Apothecary and bought their potions ingredients. Afterwards they went to Flourish and Blotts for their books. They walked towards a bookstore employee and Hermione pulled out her books list. Tom, however, made his way to the back of the store. Draco narrowed his grey eyes, trying to see what sort of books were there.

"Anything else?" asked the employee after having stacked a pile of books on a table.

"Yes, we'll need _the standard book of spells, grade five_ by Miranda Goshawk," Hermione said as she looked down at her book list. "Two copies please."

"Very well, if you'll follow me," said the employee as he led her into the opposite corner of the store. Draco walked behind her, peering over his shoulder, attempting to spot some sign of Riddle.

Her gaze stopped on a small table in one corner. It was stacked with Divination books of all sizes. _Deciphering the Indecipherable, Delve into the Future: How to Look Through the Orb of your Life. _

"Here you are," said the employee, who had to climb a moving staircase to get two copies of a big book. "Two copies…is there anything else you need?"

"That'll be it," Draco said curtly, following the employee to the counter. Hermione whom hadn't been listening continued to stare at the books. Her gaze lingered on—what ought to be—the biggest of them all. _Dream Interpretation: How to Decipher the Movements of the Inner Eye._

She held it in her quivering hands and opened it, careful not to damage it.

_Introduction: What are dreams? _

_Dreams are one of life most fascinating and intriguing mysteries. Humanity has had a love affair with attempting to understand the meaning of dreams since the dawn of man._

_Throughout history, many wizards and witches sought meaning in dreams or divination through dreams. _

_Many wizards have, indeed, become obsessed with the possible significance of their dreams. Such is the case of Charles Dewhurst, a wizard of middle age, who used to dream daily of a veela and a goat and by not knowing what it could possibly mean, killed himself in the early 20's._

_With _Dream Interpretation: How to Decipher the Movements of the Inner Eye,_ we will help the wizard or witch decipher the origin of their subconscious images…_

_Well, this is extremely dumb, _Hermione thought frustrated, closing the book harshly. _What was I thinking reading this utter garbage? _

"Looking for something in particular?" said a silky voice behind her; she could feel his breath tickling her ear, surprisingly warm against her skin as it sent some sort of electric current through her body.

She turned around and panicked inwardly as she found Riddle closer than what she would have preferred.

_Calm down!_

She shook her head nonchalantly mimicking his disinterest. "No, just looking," she said. Tom's gaze clashed against hers as she leveraged to put the book back in its place without him noticing.

His lips twirled upwards as he broke eye contact with her, glancing over to the book she had just placed back. "I don't think we will be having Divination this year."

She stood there attempting to mask her nervousness with the only innocent façade she could muster.

"Dream interpretation, I see?" Riddle raised an eyebrow as he examined the book closer "Such an imprecise subject if you ask me, never could imagine a witch like you would find this useful."

"I don't," she spat harshly. _A witch like her! _her mind screamed outraged,is he really trying to flatter her or insult her? "And I certainly don't know what you mean with _'a witch like me','_" she said rapidly, crossing her arms against her chest to show her discomfort. "You _clearly_ don't know me."

After furrowing his brow Tom replied silkily. "I-I'm sorry, It wasn't my intention to offend you…"

_Lies. _Every melodious word slipping through his lips was a lie.

"It's just there are so many fascinating books… I find it very unlikely a witch with common sense would be looking at this particular subject."

"I was just looking," she said innocently, trying to ignore the frantic pounding of her heart.

He didn't reply. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment. There was something in his grey orbs, _eagerness perhaps? _No, that wasn't it. He looked at her with such intensity, as if he could see directly through her soul.

"How about you?" she snapped as she saw him flinch lightly. Hermione couldn't help but see the bewilderment in his eyes, although it was probably one of his million masks.

"Pardon me?"

"Were you looking for something in particular? I couldn't help but notice you disappeared through the book shelves." He smirked, though there was no doubt it bothered him that someone had questioned his affairs.

"Not really," he replied simply, leaning against one shelf and scrutinizing each book intently. "I have some sort of fascination to the written word, but can you _possibly_ blame me?" Again there was a mocking edge in his tone that simply unnerved her.

Before Hermione could retort, Draco made their way towards them, eying Riddle suspiciously as he handed Hermione her pile of books.

"Is everything alright?" he asked briskly.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Tom queried softly, his countenance filled of contrariety.

A half hour later, the sky had already begun to darken as they arrived at the orphanage. Judging by the lack of sound, something told Hermione the children had already had their dinner. Mrs. Cole appeared to be in her office and didn't seem to notice their presence as they saw her start to drink from a large bottle of what appeared to be whiskey.

They climbed the staircase in silence and Hermione saw Draco stop at his room. He hesitated as he stared at Tom uneasily, but Hermione gave him a significant glance. After a moment of silence, he bid her goodbye and entered the room, carrying all of his supplies along with his new trunk.

Both Tom and Hermione continued to walk silently through the dark corridor until she finally stopped in front of her door. She extended one of her free arms to open the door, but Riddle put a hand on the handle, blocking her entry.

Hermione slowly turned to face him. She had almost drawn her wand out on instinct. She would have to hex him if he dared touch her.

His gaze flickered towards her hand and she swallowed thickly, cautiously withdrawing her fingers from the vine wood.

_Just relax! _she told herself. _He doesn't know anything, so don't give him an excuse to suspect any more than he already does. _

Their eyes met once again and she was surprised to see that they seemed darker. She couldn't help that her heart began to race in trepidation at his proximity. Hermione instantly recalled the moments where she had stared into the very same haunting eyes. Although back then, they had been a shade of crimson—shimmering with malice and blood without any drop of humanity left in them. Now they were so different. Though, instead of reflecting the soul of a fifteen year old, it seemed to portray someone much older.

"Is there anything you need?" she asked impatiently. _Act normal._

"Yes, you see…I couldn't help but noticing Laurent was behaving quite strangely at Ms. Wynn's today."

She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise, but she tried her best not to give away anything. "How so?"

He stared at her suspiciously, as if it had been the most obvious thing in the world. "He would not lift his sleeve," he replied. "Quite adamant, in fact. Ms. Wynn was not able to alter it."

"So?" her throat tightened.

"I am merely wondering if there is possibly something he doesn't want anyone else to see."

"Are you suggesting he is _hiding_ something?" she inquired, as if it were such a ridiculous notion that shouldn't even be discussed. She did not trust what was probably going through his mind right now. "With all due respect, I do not think that is something you should be worrying about. It isn't important at all."

Riddle smiled smugly "One does not react as he did if something wasn't primordial, much less if one wasn't hiding anything. All I wonder is if he is completely trust worthy?"

Something burned within her. How dare he question someone else's trust when he was a complete murderer? If anyone's trust was to be questioned, it was most definitely his.

_But he doesn't know you don't trust him. Act normal, act innocent. _

"He is," she said quietly. "I—I trust him."

But did she really trust him? During her years at Hogwarts the only thing he had proven himself trustworthy of was humiliating them. He had discriminated her for being a muggleborn and preached she was not worthy of studying magic. He had called her a mudblood. He had Insulted Ron's family countless times and labeled him a blood traitor, although Harry had probably been the one he had hated the most. His father was a Death Eater and had attacked them during their fifth year in the Department of Mysteries. So was he _really_ trust worthy? After all he was still a Slytherin and had traits that even Voldemort himself had almost considered valuable.

She almost bit her lip at the thought. _Of course he was trustworthy, why else would he have saved you? He could have just as easily handed you over to the Dark Lord and claimed the honor of having captured the last member of the Order alive, _a reproachful voice said in her head. She felt bad even thinking about it.

Her hesitancy did not go unnoticed by Riddle of course, who had been attentive to any gestures that might denounce her lie. She tried to avoid his eyes at all costs, intending to block her mind from something that could betray her in case he decided to intrude her mind with Legilimency.

"For someone you seem to know since childhood, he seems to have something he isn't ready to be completely truthful about."

_Says the king of honesty, _she thought mockingly.

"I believe whatever he keeps to himself does not concern you or I," she responded with more confidence than she actually felt. She snatched his arm from hers and stared at him defiantly. "And I don't understand why I have to tell you everything. Certainly I don't have to." His remarkably grey eyes darkened dangerously and she felt afraid once more.

"Are you possibly suggesting he keeps secrets, _Hermione_?" She hated the way he said her name with a certain mock marring his tone.

"Everyone keeps secrets Riddle, it's part of human nature. I am sure you do as well," she blurted out before she could possibly stop herself. _Real smart of you Hermione. _

She knew she had hit a nerve. She could see the annoyance flicker in his eyes, almost imperceptible. His gaze lingered on her face for a while, analyzing her. His tall and slim figure was towering above hers, intimidating her as a predator would do to its prey. After a few minutes of deadly silence she could see him moving closer to her with excruciating slowness. She closed her eyes, terrified, and shrank back against the door.

Hermione could feel as if an electric shock had been sent through her body. She was aware of each of his movements, and suddenly she felt her knees very weak as his scent began to overwhelm her. She dropped her new trunk along with her supplies, both hitting the floor with a sharp noise.

Riddle leaned closer and whispered slowly in her ear. "One might assume it is proper for one to respect another's privacy. I'd suggest you follow that principle closely." His breath burned against her skin making her feel extremely dizzy. Her skin crawled at his contact. She was trapped between his left arm and his head.

_Oh dear god. _

Her heart began to beat erratically. Her eyes fluttered open and could see his ivory skin so close to her, his cheek barely brushing against hers. Hermione couldn't help but notice his silky and smooth hair, his perfect cheekbones, and as her eyes traveled along his neck, her gaze was enraptured with the sight of his chest.

She couldn't have believed it possible to feel so many things at once. Utter revulsion, undeniable fear, and inadmissible desire.

"Is that clear?"

She swallowed as she felt his arm brushing against hers_. Stop it, please stop it._

Her wish suddenly came true as Riddle suddenly pulled away from her. Darkness abruptly shone on his face in a way that seemed dangerous and terrifying.

Hermione didn't respond. Her mind was still reeling. She caught his smirk and all of a sudden she hit ground again, coming back to reality. _That bastard, thinking he is so attractive…_

"If you don't mind, I think I shall go to bed. Goodnight, Riddle," she retorted coldly, gathering her stuff that had fallen in the floor. Before he could say anything further, she turned the handle and entered her room, closing the door behind her.

Hermione wrapped the grey blankets close to her body, somehow in an attempt to bring her protection. She stared at the ceiling, absorbed in her thoughts.

_Stupid Riddle._ Thinking she would be too dazed with his charms to notice it was a threat he whispered so softly in her ear.

She couldn't help but be angry at herself for being at the edge of falling for it. For his entire act.

Oh how she wished Harry was here to hug here and comfort her. Or even Ron, whom would simultaneously make her laugh and irritate her.

But that was not something she should focus on. She would be attending Hogwarts soon, she and Draco, along with that bastard. She didn't quite know how she felt about it. She knew life would get harder now. They weren't in their time now, they didn't have their friends, their family—no one. Not even Hogwarts would bring her the warmth it used to give her.

She had to be strong and brave. For the first time in a long time, she felt a dull shadow of her inner Gryffindor made its way to the surface.

Slowly she felt her eyes began to close until finally, she was shrouded in obscurity.

_So they're going to Hogwarts now huh? So excited to write Hogwarts. As you can see in this chapter nothing big happens, but I thought, and my beta does too, that this was nice filler. I don't want to rush things and I really wanted to try Diagon Alley. _

_I have written like two thousand words of next chapter so far I hope I can finish soon, and have in mind that I also have to send it to my beta so it may take long for me and her. _

_But you know I am having quite a tough time and I would really love it if you told me what you think of this story so far, even if it is only a 'nice chapter' or 'good' it makes my heart jump in excitement. _

_So you're good persons right? You want my heart to jump in excitement, don't you? So leave reviews. Thanks for everyone who has reviewed so far. I got 52 reviews, I know it's not much for other authors but it is for me, so thanks. Can we at least get to 70? ;) love you guys! _

_Until next time. _


	5. Life's but a walking shadow

**Disclaimer: **_I seriously don't know how any of you may think I own Harry Potter. All rights go to J.k Rowling except the plot._

_Good afternoon! So I know this took so long and that you think I am lazy and only give excuses, such as too much homework, no inspiration etc. But I do have to say I have a really good explanation this time…it seems as if destiny hates me and doesn't want me to update soon. I dislocated my shoulder whilst playing tennis. Ouch! Yeah I know, and it was my good right arm so I had to have it immobile for at least three weeks which meant I could only type with my left hand and let's say I kept typing the wrong letters, it was a pain in the ass. _

_Aaaand my beta was a bit busy so she took a bit longer than expected to edit this chapter, but eventually she did and I am so glad to have such an amazing beta. Send her all my love, like really. Pooja (murtagh799)_

_As some of you may have noted the titles for the chapters are from Shakespeare, I don't know if all of the chapter titles will be like that but I think they will so far. _

_Sorry if this isn't so good, I didn't feel like writing too much plot in this one, my arm and head hurt. Hope you like it anyway._

* * *

><p>Days passed in a continuous and boring routine. Suddenly, as she looked at the dreary calendar above her bed, she saw it. It was September first and she hadn't even begun packing. Although she didn't have much to pack except for her books and robes.<p>

Hermione glanced at the clock mounted next to the calendar. 5:00 am. She swallowed as she rubbed her swollen eyes. She hadn't been able to sleep well lately, perhaps it was because each time she closed her eyes, she could only focus on his mesmerized grey orbs staring avidly at her, or because every time she slept she could hear his sickly sweet voice caressing her ears. It was simply horrible.

She angrily opened the lid of the trunk she had bought in Diagon Alley just a few days ago and began stuffing her books in it after having folded her robes impeccably. She was still assessing the idea that in a few hours she would be on her way to Hogwarts—the only place that had given her warmth and protection.

oOo

His eyelids dropped boringly at his book, the wind gusting through the room helping flip the pages to its end. The few beams of light which filtered through the semi-opened window lightened his already pale skin, proclaiming it soon to be morning.

He was now sitting idly on the edge of his bed; he closed the book softly and placed it on his lap before continuing watching the dreary landscape once more. His suitcases were waiting expectantly in one corner of the room and he couldn't wait until he could finally leave this filth.

He glanced to the small wooden table and stared cautiously at the dirty calendar above it. The days were marked with red crosses and he did not delay to verify that, in fact, today was September first.

After having spent summer vacation here, he could finally go back into Hogwarts. Tom's eyes filled with eagerness. The atmosphere in the castle was one the orphanage could never achieve.

Despite the fact that it was only his fifth year at the castle, he knew many of its secrets only too well. Many mysteries had been uncovered in his first year through his diligent explorations, others being resolved over the years to his curious eyes. There was nothing that could be hidden from him. He would unravel all secrets in the end. He had discovered things that he was sure none had discovered, and he was willing to exploit that little fact to strengthen his power now.

He sneered as he twirled a silver badge between his long fingers.

"Prefect," he snorted. _If only Dippet had known better than to choose him. If he hadn't just misjudged him as the others had. _

Tom gave the clock another mistrustful glance, as if wondering why it couldn't move any faster. It was a quarter to six in the morning already and in a couple of hours he would be on his way to Hogwarts.

And what an interesting this year would be, he thought scornfully.

There were two particular reasons he was so eagerly awaiting the hour where he would say goodbye to this place and go back to castle. It didn't seem to be quite a special year, it could only appeared to be different due to their OWLS, which of course were only frivolities compared to what he was planning on devoting his time this year.

Firstly, he was one step closer in fulfilling Salazar Slytherin's dearest wish, his true will. After five years of research and late nights, he was confident of where the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets was. So it was just a matter of time until he - Salazar Slytherin's descendant - could eradicate those whom did not merit the privilege of studying magic from Hogwarts.

Secondly, he needed to focus on his plan, probably more important than unleashing the monster from within the Chamber. This plan held more importance than any of his other plans that had come before. And he was just getting closer to getting what he needed and, hopefully, finding the answers he wanted so desperately.

His lips curved into a smirk, his eyes shone with eagerness.

oOo

After having had breakfast, they arrived at King's cross at exactly 10:30.

Mrs. Cole had rented a cab for their ride whilst she delightedly went back to her chores as Matron of the orphanage. She was a discerning woman and it almost seemed as if she was glad to see them go, especially Tom—not to mention the looks on the faces of the orphans; they seemed almost happy.

She shrugged off her thoughts as they stood in the middle of platforms nine and ten.

Draco was about to walk towards the wall but Hermione stopped him hastily. They had to act as if they didn't know anything of what was happening or where they were heading. _Act Hermione, act._

"Why are we stopping here?—is there anything we have to do?"

Riddle merely stared at her, anxiety betraying his blank mask. "Yes—what you have to do is go straight to the barrier that lies between these two platforms. It will be preferable if you do it fast."

Hermione glanced at Draco and nodded.

"I-I'll go first," she said softly.

"Very well, then."

She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes as she neared the barrier. When no impact came she opened her eyes and couldn't help but smile at the recognition of platform 3 ¾. It was filled with chattering students and their respective families. The steam and scarlet locomotive waited on the crowded platform and the shrill whistle of the train pierced her ears. The platform was filled with a cacophony of sound. The locomotive's smoke rose above the heads of the noisy multitude, while owls hooted loudly, secured in their cages, and the movement of many heavy trunks caused a loud scraping against the pavement.

Draco appeared seconds after her and was followed by Tom.

Apparently, Riddle had forgotten to put on his polite facade as he eagerly walked toward the train before he disappeared in the crowd.

Hermione stood there uneasily, watching how parents bid farewell to their children. She felt a strange tingle in her stomach. Draco had been silent too, absorbed in his own thoughts and memories.

"We should get going, don't you think?"

Hermione seemed hesitant "I-I supposed we should, but people don't know us, what are we supposed to tell them? What did Dumbledore tell Dippet?"

Draco bit his lip as he stared at her, his emotions hidden very well behind his grey eyes.

She had never noted his eyes before. She had seen them, of course, she knew they were grey, but she had never really taken the chance to focus on his features.

His eyes were layers of different shades of grey mixed with spirals of blue, almost unnoticeable if one did not study them carefully. They almost resembled Riddle's, but unlike his, Draco's eyes didn't seem so empty, so _dull_.

"I don't know," he said finally. "But I suppose we'll find out in the evening."

She nodded lightly and followed him. The first wagons were already full of students, some of them peering through the windows to bid farewell to their relatives, others arguing about which seats to occupy. Steam was billowing from the train. They both walked hesitantly through the long corridor, dragging their trunks.

People were starting to murmur as they walked by. Some of them were even pressing their faces shamelessly to the window to get a better look at them. Of course they would be staring. No one had ever seen them before; by now they were all probably making their conclusions of who they were and why they were here.

"Here's a spot," Draco said through gritted teeth as they hurried inside gratefully. "How annoying."

"I know," said Hermione quietly as she sat across from him. They both stared at the magnificent landscape before them as the train started up, both silent in their musings.

"Draco?" she asked dubitatively. She wasn't sure about to asking him what was on her mind; it had been wandering in her thoughts ever since Riddle had cornered her that night after Diagon Alley.

She just had to know and all she had to do was ask.

Hermione bit her lip as she stared at his questioning countenance.

"Why did you save me that night?—you know," she said shyly, "moments before we traveled back in time. You knew you were risking your life saving me, you had protection among the Dark so why risk it all just to help me run away? It just seems so… out of character of you,"

This time it was Draco who broke their eye contact. His glance lingered on the landscape flitting by their compartment window as he tried to find the right words to say.

When he started, he did so with a hoarse voice, "I already told you. After years of being a Death Eater, being punished for my failures, looking after my mother and watching how our Lo…I mean V—Voldemort…" Hermione could see how much it took him to say his name instead of _'My Lord'_. "How he tortured people endlessly and sometimes making me do it as well…I just thought doing this, helping you, would make up for some of my wrongs, the guilt that had taken over me for killing and torturing all those muggles. I thought I would be less of a coward if I helped you…if I took a decision by myself."

She gulped. Somehow, as she looked at him, she could really see the raw emotion behind his words and how much strength it had taken him to get that out. Hermione felt bad that he had been forced to rip his soul that way, by killing and torturing and being forced to watch the suffering.

She shivered at the thought of doing something that…that _barbaric_. She had never thought she would ever say it, but Draco didn't deserve it, neither did he deserve following the same path as Voldemort and ending up as the horrible creature that Voldemort no doubt was. But again, _who deserved a terrible fate such as that?_ Death was preferable.

Hermione shook her head lightly and murmured. "You are not a coward. We are all capable of heroism, and we are all capable of greatness."

Draco didn't say anything.

"Do you think we might have a chance?" she asked after a while. "We will have to think very clearly about this, organize our plan very thoroughly. It would be extremely foolish to attack without a plan and…"

"Granger, stop," he hissed annoyed. "Just hear me out; no matter how much we plan this, it will never be enough considering it is the Dark Lord we are fighting against. He is by far too unpredictable and his level of magic has always been above the expected, even when he was at school." As he was greeted by silence, he continued, "He is already interested in us and he won't stop until he gets what he wants, the information he needs."

She bit her lip. Draco was right and that was probably the reason she was most nettled.

Hermione nodded slowly, swallowing her pride as she continued to listen to what Draco had to say.

"Now, one of Slytherin's traits is to be cunning. Using what one possesses to get what they want from others is a fundamental trait."

"Manipulative," Hermione whispered.

He nodded before proceeding, "One thing you have to get through your mind is that self-preservation is a strong need to us, like loyalty and morals are to you Gryffindors." He paused, waiting for her reaction. "What I'm saying is that Riddle will probably try to manipulate us. He likes to play with his prey, having fun with them until he gets what he wants…"

"Are you saying…?"

"We need to think Slytherin-like…"

"But I am _not_ a Slytherin."

"Well then let's just hope the combination of our minds will get us through this."

His hesitant tone made her wonder for a moment, but she nodded in the end. They both were swallowed into silence once again, but this time she did not dare to break it.

Her mind was reeling with a million thoughts. What would their friends do if they were in her place? First, they clearly wouldn't be associating with a Slytherin, especially not Harry. He would have probably fought Riddle when he first laid eyes on the monster. He would have fought before someone got hurt. She couldn't help but smile at this. God only knew how much she missed him. All of them.

oOo

She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep. Though it was understandable as she _had _been completely exhausted from the past few nights where all she could see in her dreams was Riddle, startling her awake, drenched in cold sweat.

A faint groan woke her from her dreamless sleep and her eyes widened as she caught glimpse of Draco.

He was brushing away some sweat from his forehead. An unbearable headache was beginning to build once again. For four days in a row, he had been having headaches and waking up in the middle of the night with his ears pounding and sweating. Of course he hadn't even mentioned any of this to Hermione, although he had been tempted to reconsider when the headaches had began to cause him severe pain.

Telling her would make him seem perceptibly weak.

Draco closed his eyes for a couple of minutes and kneaded the area right next to his eye, intending to cease the headache but to no avail. Now, the pain had extended all the way through to his neck.

"Draco?" he heard a hesitant voice resound in his ears. _Granger. _

He didn't open his eyes, however. Instead, he tried to clear his head from any thoughts that might worsen his pain, until it was just a dull grey wall.

Something rattled in his ears, it disturbed him. Maybe he was losing his mind. The whole situation with Riddle was going to drive him to madness.

"Draco, what's wrong?" she asked more firmly than before.

He opened his eyes, startled to see her brown eyes were filled with concern, her small hands twisting nervously in her lap.

He hesitated before answering curtly, "Nothing."

Somehow it wasn't convincing enough. She raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"You're sweating."

"It's hot in here," he responded lamely. She gave him an incredulous look and opened her mouth to retort, but he hastened to say, "Listen, it's nothing, I—it's this stupid headache, is all."

Hermione's lips turned into a thin line but she didn't say anything. She looked away and Draco was thankful he wasn't under her gaze anymore.

Finally the Hogwarts Express slowed down its march to stop at the Hogsmade station. When they had changed into their robes, Draco and Hermione followed the other students out of the train.

Tom walked out of the train like everyone else and caught Slughorn exiting as well, suddenly recalling his earlier note from Slughorn. He let out a small groan of frustration, but managed to compose his usual _nice_ façade as he noted Slughorn watching him.

He walked towards where Draco and Hermione where standing.

"Allow me," he said charmingly, pointing out his prefect badge. Hermione exchanged quick glances with Draco before following him through the crowd. He guided them towards the carriages that waited to take them up to the castle. She could feel her heart skip a beat as she noted the beasts pulling them. Huge, black creatures with skeletal bodies and leathery wings stood there stamping their hooves angrily against the ground and snorting. The thestrals—it was obvious she would see them now, after all the deaths she had witnessed.

Unwillingly, Draco, Hermione, Riddle, and another boy with auburn, silky hair climbed into the nearest carriage. With a strong jolt, the carriage advanced along the road.

Neither spoke nor moved as they finally made their way towards the castle. It was surprising how the weather seemed to change around them. The wind was howling loudly and the sky had turned pitch black. Hermione leaned out of the tiny window, watching the many towers and turrets draw nearer. Draco was staring too, an odd, oppressing feeling constricting his chest. He had never imagined he would ever set foot in the castle again, not after what he had almost done on his sixth year. He didn't have a place in the castle anymore, not in his conscious thoughts, that is.

Finally, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Hermione and Draco got out, closely followed by Riddle.

Both of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps and through the giant oak front doors. The entrance hall was lit with a thousand torches, all bringing warmth and a sense of protection to the students.

Draco and Hermione stood there uneasily, undecided whether to follow the crowd to the Great Hall or not.

"Ah, Ms. Austen, Mr. Laurent."

Draco and Hermione turned, surprised. Slughorn was calling over the heads of the crowd. The professor fought his way over to them and smiled sheepishly.

"Hello professor," Hermione said smiling. Draco stared at him warily. Now that they were at Hogwarts, he remembered why he didn't like the professor very much. Slughorn hadn't been one of his favorite teachers back in their time, probably because the man had never considered him important enough to let him be in the stupid Slug Club.

"Er—we were just wondering what we should do now."

"Oh, right then," Slughorn exclaimed whilst rubbing his stomach. "Professor Dippet asked me to show you your way. You're being presented to the school, you see."

Hermione felt a weave of nausea hit her.

Apparently he must have noted her nervousness because he then said, "Don't fret Ms. Austen, this is the first time Hogwarts has had transfer students, I believe, so it is a must to introduce you to the others. I am very sure you will make good friends regardless of what house you get sorted into. As I see, you have already met Tom—such a great student he is!"

Draco bit his lip to avoid snorting and Hermione felt her legs go numb.

"Now now, we better go into the Great Hall before the first years appear."

He didn't notice their stricken expression as he opened the doors to the Great Hall.

Everybody had been talking amongst themselves as they stared at Armando Dippet. Now, as Slughorn led them inside, the chatter immediately quelled and a hush fell over the room as every head craned to look at Slughorn and the strangers.

"Ah, Horace," Dippet exclaimed as Slughorn led them up to the staff table. The professor strode off to his empty seat next to a thin witch who resembled a raven. Hermione tried her best not to blush as she stood next to Draco and Dippet.

The Headmaster was dressed in magenta and bronze robes. He had very pale skin and was frail and feeble-looking. He had only a few wisps of white hair protecting his head.

"Now, I have a few announcements to make before the sorting," said Dippet, the candlelight shimmering on his white beard. Every eye was trained on Dippet and on both Draco and Hermione, whom stood nervously besides the headmaster.

He cleared his throat and continued, "As you must all know, there will be some new arrangements in our security system due to the raging war—but there is no need to fear. There is no possible way Grindelwald's forces will be able to dispose of all the magical shields surrounding Hogwarts."

He paused scrutinizing each of the students' nervous faces.

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to announce to you that this year, Hogwarts will be most delighted in participating in the 'Winterlude ball'. As some of you are no doubt aware, this ball is celebrated at Hogwarts every 6 years and is open for attendance to only students from fifth year and above. I truly hope you see this as an opportunity to socialize with the other houses."

Immediately the room was filled with enthusiastic chattering, although Hermione could notice Slytherin table was the least excited of all. _How odd,_ she thought sardonically.

When the murmurs died away, Dippet continued.

"As to our second and most important announcement," he started. Everyone stared avidly at the Headmaster now and Hermione could sense what was coming next. "I am pleased to introduce you to our first transfer students."

Hermione turned to see the sea of faces, although she tried her hardest not to stare too long at the Slytherin table. She hadn't spotted Riddle yet, though she had no doubt his gaze was fixed on her.

"We shall now commence with the sorting of our two newest additions to our fifth year students." He smiled kindly at the pair, but Hermione couldn't manage anything but a grimace. Draco just stared blankly.

Hermione hadn't noticed a wooden stool standing a few feet away from them, an old hat above it.

Dippet gestured Hermione to sit on the stool as he lazily moved his wand, making the hat float omnisciently in the air. Hermione sat on the stool with trembling legs, gathering the needed courage to look at her surroundings. With another flick of his wand, the hat was placed above her head and Hermione could remember how in her first year the hat had been far too big for her. Now it seemed to fit just perfectly, though it may have been her frizzy curls that stopped the garment from slipping over her eyes.

"_Ah, well what do we have here?" the hat mused in her head. "A time traveler I see." _

_Hermione bit her lip. "Please—don't…" she thought._

"_Now now, where to put you, where to put you! Ah, my dear, but look what we have here—I see bravery and courage, but…no, I don't think you will be good in Gryffindor."_

"_What?" Hermione thought, outraged. "I am a Gryffindor, a true Gryffindor."_

"_Oh yes, you think you will be good in Gryffindor, but I see something more. You are clever, oh yes…you could be extraordinary! __Resourcefulness, cunning, you know, Slytherin will surely help you on your way of greatness, no doubt about that."_

"_No! I am a bloody Gryffindor! I can't be in Slytherin, they're vile and cruel," she shrieked desperately in her mind. "I…can't. I am nothing like them…"_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Yes I am, I can't be in Slytherin…can't you just put me in Gryffindor?"_

"_No one gets to choose their house, girl."_

"_But you did that for a friend of mine."_

"_Did I now? Now, we need to get you sorted…Your cleverness and capacity to perceive things others easily overlook can bring you great things. Intelligence is well appreciated in Ravenclaw."_

"_Ravenclaw?" Hermione thought bewildered. After all, Ravenclaw had been her first option of her sorting before she was put into Gryffindor all those years ago. It seemed really odd to think about it._

"_Do not underestimate wit. Logic and intelligence can get you far, if used correctly. Oh yes…and I see it in you…yes, yes; I think it will be…Ravenclaw!"_

The hat was removed from her head returning to the air once again. The Great Hall erupted into applause excluding the Slytherin table, from which there were only a few unenthusiastic claps.

"Good Merlin! Ms. Austen please join the Ravenclaw table and welcome once again." When Dippet saw that she didn't move right away, he had to prod her in the back. She stumbled down the steps, and there was an outbreak of snickering at the Slytherin table. From all except one pair of grey eyes that watched her intently, cursing inwardly.

Hermione slipped into her seat shakily, her knees trembling. She received a couple of warm smiles from the other Ravenclaws before her full attention was directed to Draco, whom walked towards the stool staring at the old hat disdainfully.

She couldn't fully decipher the emotions hidden beneath his eyes. He didn't look as terrified and nervous as she was, but he didn't appear very pleased either.

She noted his lips turning into a thin line, and after what seemed a few seconds the hat yelled _'Slytherin!'_

There were a couple of claps before Draco sipped into his seat, just a couple of seats away from Riddle. But he wasn't paying attention to him or any of the Slytherins at all. His grey eyes were fixed on her, his hands massaging his temple. She narrowed her eyes before she looked away hastily.

"Hello," the girl next to her said, smiling. Hermione turned to face her. Her skin was smooth and very pale. Her blue eyes seemed as if they were covered by different layers, leaving the exterior a rare silvery blue color, giving her delicate features and air of surprise and unquestionable curiosity. Her long blonde hair fell to her waist in loose curls and looked somewhat disheveled. Hermione had the impression that she was staring at a carbon copy of her friend, Luna Lovegood.

"Hi."

"I'm Selene Stuttgart, fifth year as well."

"It's very nice to meet you," Hermione answered, staring at her, lightly dazed. The resemblance between the girl and her friend was striking. Who knew? Maybe she was staring at Luna's grandmother.

The girl smiled warmly before turning to face Dippet once more.

"Let the feast begin," he announced.

"Thank Circe! I was starving," one of the boys from the table said and he began stuffing food in his mouth. Hermione let out a small giggle as she remembered Ron.

"Merlin's beard, Robert, have some decency," the girl in front of Hermione exclaimed. She had big mahogany eyes and straight long black hair. "Hi, I'm Mina and this is Robert."

The boy smiled. "I's nice 'o mee' ou'," he said with his mouth full.

"Excuse Robert," Selene whispered in Hermione's ear. "Don't get the wrong idea; his stomach is as big as his heart."

"_Hey_."

Selene laughed and she continued, "The hat considered him to be in Gryffindor at first."

Hermione's heart jumped. "Oh really?"

"Yes. He's probably the most talkative of us and he's really clever too. Apparently the hat considered that and sorted him into Ravenclaw instead."

"And how about you? Did the hat considered sorting you into another house?"

"No, it didn't."

"Oh," Hermione said quietly, and then it occurred to her, "Er—Selene? Do you think the hat might make any mistakes, you know, consider someone to be in a house where they wouldn't fit."

Selene raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her drink, when she was finished, she spoke in a melodious voice.

"Why would the hat consider putting you in a house where you wouldn't fit? I don't think it could possibly do that. I think there are many people here, like Robert, who had the possibility to be in two houses. The hat sorts you where it thinks you would grow more as a person and fit your needs and talents, though it doesn't mean you still can't posses traits from the other houses."

Hermione nodded slowly, chewing a piece of butter bread. _Did that mean that she possessed Slytherin traits? _

She didn't say anything throughout the remainder dinner. Selene didn't push her. Everyone seemed to be enjoying their feast, all except…

Hermione scanned the Slytherin table. Draco seemed to have composed his superior attitude and nonchalant behavior. He wasn't looking at Riddle. Instead he kept eating, slowly chewing his food. Hermione couldn't help notice a girl sitting a few seats away from him, practically sending him flirting glances, which he didn't seem to notice.

She continued to observe the Slytherins when her gaze stopped at Riddle. He wasn't looking, of course; instead, he seemed to be busy picking at his food. It all seemed normal at except for one thing she couldn't overlook. The Slytherins seemed to be absorbed in conversation, though every so often some of them would look at Tom oddly, as if waiting for his approval. It looked as if they even had to ask him if they were breathing the right way. He, of course, didn't say much. He only smiled at times and quirked his eyebrow at others, but never directed his gaze to any of them.

Every movement seemed to revolve around him.

The girl, whom had been reprimanding Robert, turned around following Hermione's gaze.

"You're looking at the boy with black hair, aren't you? Tom Riddle?" she asked, some wrinkles appearing on her forehead.

Hermione looked away, feeling embarrassed she had noted.

Robert stopped eating to look as well. "Tom Riddle?"

"Why are you staring like that?" asked Hermione.

"Well he's…he's got some sort of reputation."

"What kind of reputation?"

The girl with black hair stared at him sternly.

"What?" he said defensively.

"You know it's all trash talk, don't you? He is a Prefect and model student after all. I am quite shocked he wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw; he is really clever."

"I'll tell you why; he _is_ odd."

"Oh stop it."

"He is, he—Er…well he seems kind of dark."

Hermione almost choked on her drink.

"Dark? In which way? Has he done something bad?" Hermione asked rapidly, feeling a lump in her throat.

"No, he hasn't," the black-haired girl retorted.

"Mina," Selene said calmly.

Robert ignored them and continued talking. "Well… no, he hasn't done anything, but he is just so…odd. His friends are always following him around like puppies, it sometimes seems like he intimidates them, even the older ones."

"Robert, stop it!" Mina exclaimed angrily.

"You are only defending him because he is popular."

"He _is _a Prefect and model student. Besides, he's nice."

It was only then that Hermione noticed the shimmering badge pinned on Mina's robes.

"His niceness is probably what got him sorted into Slytherin," Robert responded sarcastically.

Mina ignored him and crossed her arms grumpily. Robert gave Hermione a brief smile before he continued eating.

After a while, Robert and Mina began to question Hermione about her life. Selene remained quiet, giving brief smiles once in a while.

After dinner was over, there was a huge line of students trying to get out of the Great Hall. Hermione was walking next to Selene when she felt someone touch her shoulder.

She stifled a gasp as she saw Riddle followed by Draco.

"Ms. Austen, Headmaster Dippet wishes to see both you and Laurent. As a Prefect, it is my duty to accompany you there," he said in a monotonous voice.

Selene, Robert, and Mina had stopped as they noticed Hermione wasn't walking.

"Hermione, are you coming?" Selene asked.

"You guys go along. I have to meet with the Headmaster."

Robert narrowed his eyes at Riddle, but Mina took him by the arm harshly and pulled him into the throng of students.

Selene nodded. "I'll wait for you in our common room." And with that she strode off, her long blond hair flowing around her.

As soon as the students had dispersed, Tom guided them through the dark corridors. Their steps were the only noise echoing in the piercing silence. Hermione was trying to keep up with their long strides, but her legs seemed as if they were made out of jelly. She turned to catch Draco's gaze, but he didn't return the glance. The moonlight briefly brightened his face. No emotion—just an expressionless mask. His hands were burrowed deep into his pockets and his back was ramrod straight.

The hallways were dimly lit with torches, the orange light flickering and reflecting off of the cold stone walls.

Riddle turned around sharply without glancing back at his companions.

Hermione was so focused on arriving at the Headmaster's office that she didn't pay much attention to how her heart clenched painfully at the familiarity of her surroundings. In the past—or in the future— she had walked through this same hallway with Harry and Ron many times. She had seen the walls crumble as they attempted to protect Hogwarts.

She felt her heart shatter slowly. She hadn't imagined it would hurt more than before. Surprisingly enough, it did.

They passed statues, various doors, and climbed several staircases before finally arriving at the Headmaster's office.

With agility, Tom climbed the staircase. He looked around as if to scour the area, and then led them straight to the Headmaster's office.

Riddle muttered something unintelligible under his breath and the gargoyle statue leaped aside, the wall behind it splitting in two, only to reveal a spiral stone staircase.

When they stepped onto the stairs, it began to slowly ascend. Tom knocked on the door softly. "Come in," a voice said from the other side and instantly the highly polished oak doors were opened.

Hermione took a look at their surroundings almost immediately. Unlike Dumbledore, Dippet didn't have many things in his office. Some books here and there, but it didn't make it extraordinary; it didn't have the warmth Dumbledore seemed to give it. The windows were covered by curtains and it was illuminated by candlelight and lamplight. It was just too…tidy. Nothing seemed out of place.

Dippet stood behind the big desk.

"Sir, I have brought Ms. Austen and Mr. Laurent, as you asked."

Dippet raised his head and put down his quill, a wide smile appearing on his wrinkled face.

"Ah, thank you, Tom," he said, smiling, "Now, boy, would you not mind waiting outside? There are some matters to discuss."

"Of course, sir," he smiled pleasantly as he gave an almost imperceptible bow. His hands were intertwined behind his back and he strode out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Sit, sit," the Headmaster said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. Hermione and Draco walked slowly and sat.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Dippet said pleasantly.

"Thank you, Headmaster… for taking us in," said Hermione quietly and politely.

"Yes, you must know it is rather unusual to accept a transfer student as I have already stated before," Dippet answered pompously.

The girl nodded.

"Now, are you familiar to our education system? Albus informed me you were both home-schooled."

Hermione wondered how Dumbledore could have possibly known that, but then she came to the conclusion he must've used Legilimens and had seen the fake story she had given Riddle.

Draco remained impassive although Hermione could have sensed his nervousness. Of course, she hadn't told him the story yet and in case Riddle decided to interrogate him, he wouldn't know what to say and then her lies would be exposed.

"Yes, we were. Our parents taught us everything we know, they were very close friends," she said, hoping Draco would catch something. "I don't think we are familiar to your system, sir."

"Very well. There will be different schedules for both of you." He handed them each a paper.

"Now, each of the classes will be taken with a different house in the accorded hour. You will have a limit of five minutes to get to each of your classes," he continued. "When a student commits some minor mischief, they will lose House points. The House Cup competition is a sign of pride for each house, so losing points would set you back from winning that pride."

—all teachers, prefects, and the Head Boy and Girl have the authority to dock house points from students…"

Hermione zoned out.

When he was finished listing the Hogwarts rules, Dippet waved his wand lazily. The doors opened to reveal a tired Tom Riddle, probably frustrated at having to wait that long outside. If he was, then he managed to cover it very well.

"Tom, would you mind guiding them to their respective common rooms?"

Riddle nodded politely. "Sir, am I going to start patrolling tonight?"

"Ah, yes. Where is Ms. Greengrass, by the way?"

"I believe she is unaware of Prefect duties starting tonight, so perhaps she has gone back to the dungeons."

Dippet nodded solemnly and dismissed them all.

"This way," Riddle muttered and took a left. They traveled down the marble staircases until they stopped in front of a door without a doorknob or keyhole. It was only adorned with a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle.

_The Ravenclaw tower entrance, _Hermione thought.

Tom stretched out one arm and brushed his fingers against the wooden door. The eagle peak opened instantly.

"The more you have it, the less you see. What is it?" a melodious voice said. Riddle turned to face Hermione. The moonlight hit his face momentarily, showing off his sharp features. His high cheekbones jutted out from his face, his perspicacious dark eyes staring down at her.

"In order to enter the room, you must answer the riddle. If the answer is incorrect, you must wait for someone else who gets it right."

Hermione arched one eyebrow, Draco's countenance mirroring hers. "Isn't that counterproductive? Anyone could get into the common room if they want."

"Correction Ms. Austen. Anyone _smart _enough," he said in the same monotonous voice. "Now, do you know the answer?"

Hermione's lips turned into a thin line, almost imperceptible. She glanced away and furrowed her forehead in light concentration.

_The more you have it, the less you see. _

Well that isn't so complicated. The only thing you can't see when there is more is…

"Darkness."

"Well thought." And with that the door opened.

Hermione smiled proudly and turned to face Riddle. His face didn't show any hint of emotion. Instead he composed a smile and nodded solemnly.

"I see you won't have many problems to gain entrance to your common room. I shall leave you then, I have to attend to my Prefect duties."

She nodded.

"Have a pleasant night, Ms. Austen. I shall see you tomorrow."

And with that he walked away, not bothering to wait for Draco. He knew the other boy would follow him anyway.

Draco turned to Hermione. "Goodnight," he leaned forward and gave her a quick goodbye kiss on her left cheek. He turned on his heels and before Hermione could tell him anything, he had already disappeared into the shadows.

She entered through the door and it closed behind her.

Hermione stood in a wide, circular room with a midnight blue carpet. Her eyes fell on arched windows hung with soft blue and bronze silks, and a domed ceiling painted with stars. The room was furnished with tables, chairs, and several bookcases.

It was odd to think that this was going to be her respective house now, would have been if she hadn't been in Gryffindor. She wouldn't have met Ron or Harry if that had been the case. She wondered if she would have been the same person if she had been a Ravenclaw, or if she could've turned out to be completely different. Although these answers would always remain a mystery, she didn't regret a thing.

"You're back."

Hermione turned around to the source of the voice. Selene had been waiting for her. Well that was nice.

She stood up from her seat and put down a book. Hermione must've been extremely distracted to not have seen her when she entered. Selene had already put on her night gown and in the moonlight she resembled an angel.

"I thought you would be in bed right now."

Selene's shoulders slumped. "I thought you wanted me to wait for you."

"Oh no, no, I did, I just thought you would be tired, that's all."

The girl smiled tiredly. "It wasn't a bother. I was catching up on a bit of light reading."

Hermione smiled as she thought of how Ron and Harry wouldn't have waited for her and instead would have gone directly to their dorms.

"How did the meeting with Headmaster Dippet go?"

"Well, he did give me a schedule and told us the rules." Selene nodded and they stood silent for a moment. "Er…Selene? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"In the Great Hall, you were the only one that did not ask anything about me and why was I here…why?"

"Well I figured it must've been something difficult and that you did not want to talk about it. It must be tedious to have someone question you about your past, so I did not see any good in doing it. Besides, why should we ask such questions? One should not be judged by their past so much as their present."

Hermione faltered. She hadn't thought about it that way. Now, the resemblance Selene had with Luna was even more striking.

"Well I guess we should get upstairs now," Hermione said between yawns.

"Yes, I guess we should."

As they made their way to the dormitories, Hermione caught glimpse of a tall statue made of white marble. It was Rowena Ravenclaw. She didn't know why, but she instantly felt relieved as she followed Selene through the staircase. Somehow she felt more protected knowing she was as far as possible from Riddle, although she felt bad not being able to say the same for Draco.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Before you can say anything I would like to say some things first._

_First. Draco doesn't have much appearance in this chapter, or at some parts he might appear weird and somehow OOC. He is supposed to be acting weird, because he is going through something that I won't tell you yet, I believe he doesn't even know himself. I shall just tell you, TIME TRAVEL messes up with people. _

_Also Riddle acts a bit strange, suddenly a bit different with Hermione, that is because he is a bit frustrated he won't have many chances to mess with her now that she is Ravenclaw , haha something like that, other is because he is in Hogwarts now and he has to develop his plans. _

_Hopefully next chapter I can include them a bit more. _

_And Hermione is in Ravenclaw, some of you may have been disappointed because you hoped I would put her in Slytherin but I actually didn't know where to put her. _

_I actually had a talk with my beta and she said that it would be a bit more exciting if she was put in Slytherin but I think that would be too cliché and I want to make this story as different as possible. So why not Ravenclaw? She can make real friends there and it will also bring Hermione more happiness, and more time to reflex._

_I would like to hear your thoughts even if this story is developing slowly. I also wanted to thank you because I got 70 reviews, thank you! You are amazing. I hope you leave more, perhaps telling me what you would like to read in the future. Can we possibly get to 90? That'd be amazing. Not to mention get to the big 100! _

_I love you guys, hope to hear from you soon and you can have a cookie if you have read all of my ramblings. _


	6. Let me embrace thee, sour adversity

_Thanks to everyone who has reviewed._

_Edward-is-sexier-than-Mike, My. Evil .Cookie, Rue Dawn, AlwaysthereforTaraxx, Lost O'Fallon Girl, smileylol, Literature-angel, semantics, thelovelybuttercup, susan15. _

_**Edward-is-sexier-than-Mike-**__ Thanks for reviewing (: _

_**My. Evil .Cookie- **__Thank you and you're right, it would be really improbably for her to get sorted into Slytherin. _

_**Rue Dawn- **__Haha thank you, it will be hard thinking of so many riddles but I'll try to include some. _

_**AlwaysthereforTaraxx- **__Thank you, and he will be don't worry. _

_**Lost O'Fallon Girl- **__Haha yeah I remember, that was sort of why I decided to put her in there :)_

_**Smileylol- **__Haha thanks, yeah he did although no Dramione romance in this story, be warned haha. _

_**Literature-angel-**__ I don't know if there will be any smut yet, haha I think it's too soon to determine that. But I will try to make myself clear, I know that many authors don't like to write it, I have never written it but I am not afraid of doing it, I like to experiment and write different things, so I'll probably give it a thought :) _

_**Semantics- **__I cannot describe how much I love your reviews haha, thank you!_

_**Thelovelybuttercup- **__Oh wow, thank you so much!_

_**Susan15- **__Thanks! _

_I really hope more people can review this chapter; I was a bit sad for the few response that my last chapter received although I really appreciate those who took time to review and add this story to favorites, alerts etc. _

_I wanted to make one thing clear first. There will not be a romance between Draco and Hermione haha, this isn't a Dramione story. _

_I want to thank my b eta Pooja for being her amazing self, thank you for everything (:_

* * *

><p>When Draco woke up, he found Riddle had thankfully already left. His bed had already been made and there was no sign of him in the bathroom. He looked around. Apparently, the other three boys he would be sharing the dormitory with were still asleep, if not dead judging by their stillness.<p>

He shrugged on his robes and brushed his hair. Draco gathered his books and walked out the room. There were only a few people in the common room, although he didn't stop to greet them when they said their hellos. He was infuriated; he just wanted it all to stop.

Perhaps the most influential factor of him helping Granger – although he wouldn't dare admit this to her – had been because he had wanted to escape from the cruel reality that plagued him. It was mainly because he was such a coward that he had done so. But the truth was he hadn't escaped at all. He was in the depths of hell and it would only get worse from here on out, he was sure.

oOo

Riddle entered the Great Hall gracefully and stalked over to the Slytherin table, his eyes not deviating from his path. Parsimoniously, Riddle strode towards his seat, ignoring all and any of the reverential greetings from the Slytherins.

Some of his fellow 'peers' were already seated and Riddle immediately spotted an unoccupied and seemingly reserved seat in their midst. He sat elegantly, noticing the envious glances his group was receiving from some other Slytherins. Riddle suppressed a condensing sneer and began to eat.

"Morning, Tom," one of the boys said in greeting. Riddle nodded his head in acknowledgment without glancing in his direction.

"When will we be having our meetings, Tom?"

Tom raised his head and stared imperiously at the blond boy before answering dryly, "I think it's too soon to determine when the meetings shall be, don't you think Mulciber? Although I'm sure we will be able to recommence in two weeks."

"But our first Hogsmeade trip is in two weeks."

Riddle merely observed him through his expressionless grey eyes. "If you cannot assist then I won't force you to come, Mulciber," he demurred.

"No, Tom, of course I'll assist," the blond quickly said.

Tom couldn't help but smirk. He started picking at his food when he saw Laurent approaching the table. Riddle raised his head.

"Ah, Laurent," Tom greeted pleasantly.

Draco blinked spastically, his mouth forming a thin line.

"Please, come join us." He was aware of the looks of pure incredulity and anger his followers threw him. When the glances became unbearable, Riddle turned to face them.

"Is there a…_problem_?" he inquired, enunciating his words, each syllable clear and dripping with sweet poison.

Silence.

Riddle quirked his head to one side and made a gesture.

"Avery, don't be rude, make a space for _Draco."_

The boy sitting across from Riddle cringed in offence but made a space nonetheless. After what seemed like an eternity, Draco took a seat. He held his head down and his knuckles were turning white.

Tom stared at him, his scintillating orbs watching him with such intensity, as if hoping to pierce through to his soul. Although, if truth was to be told that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to see him crack and beg for mercy, but he still was a long way from that. But from that moment on, he would raise the boy like a pig for slaughter.

oOo

The first rays of sunshine filtering through the dormitory windows woke her gently.

Hermione groaned as she rubbed her eyes lazily. She stifled a yawn and brushed her hair from her face.

"Oh. You're awake." Hermione squinted until she was able to focus Selene's figure not too far from her place on her bed. Hermione sat up to see that Selene was already dressed and was combing her long blonde hair methodically.

"What time is it? Is it late?"

Selene smiled absently. "There's still time."

The door from the bathroom burst open and a brunette Hermione hadn't seen before came out. Last night she'd been too tired to notice who else she would be sharing a dorm with.

The girl stopped and scrutinized Hermione closely. "You're the new transfer student, aren't you?"

Hermione nodded. The girl bit her lip and stretched out a hand. "I'm Ivy. I didn't think Hogwarts would ever admit any transfer students," she said coolly.

"I didn't think we could be here either."

"_We_?" Ivy narrowed her eyes.

"Er—Draco and I…" Hermione stammered.

"Do you mean the other transfer? The one who got sorted into Slytherin?"

The girl nodded. "We're friends."

"Oh," was all Ivy said before she became absorbed in something else.

Selene smiled reassuringly to Hermione, putting her brush down and turning to face her. "There are robes right there, Hermione."

After she had dressed, both Selene and she went down to breakfast. The ceiling of the Great Hall displayed a layer of grey to the point where only dense and dark clouds were visible. They came across Mina and Robert at the table and joined them.

Hermione began to spread some jam on her toast.

"So how do you like Hogwarts so far, Hermione?" Robert asked as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice.

Hermione smiled. "I really like it. Somehow it has an air of familiarity that I love," she said, enjoying her own little private joke. They continued eating and it was then that Ivy joined them. For some reason, she stared contemptuously at Hermione as she started to fill her plate with eggs. She then focused her gaze at the Slytherin table.

Hermione looked down at her plate. "Selene, why doesn't Ivy seem to like me?" she whispered uncertainly. "I don't think I've done anything to her, I just met her."

Selene smiled reassuringly. "I think you just have to give her some time to know you better. She isn't a bad person." Hermione nodded, although she didn't seem very convinced.

At the end of breakfast, they were given their schedules and Hermione remembered that she had left the one Dippet had given her on her bedside table.

"Which class do we have first?" Robert asked distractedly.

"Potions with the Slytherins," Selene said revising her schedule.

Robert let out a groan. "I hate potions with Slytherins."

"Now that's convenient," Mina said rolling her eyes, "you seem to hate everything with the word Slytherin in it."

"Can you blame me? Last year we only had one class with Slytherin, now we have…" he looked down at his schedule, "three classes!

Hermione's eyes widened "Which classes?" she said suddenly, feeling bad she hadn't even taken a look at her schedule.

"Defense, potions and…transfiguration."

Hermione cringed.

"What's wrong?" Mina asked Hermione.

"Nothing," she lied. Somehow it made her feel utterly sick that she would have to share those three classes with Tom. Although if she looked at the bright side, she would see Draco as well.

_Speaking of Draco._

She leered at the Slytherin table and looked away, but then had to check twice to see if she had seen correctly. Hermione squinted.

_Was that Draco sitting with Riddle? Why was he there? He was fraternizing with the enemy. _She painfully recalled Ron's words when he had been trying to warn her against Viktor in their fourth year. But this was not the same, Viktor wasn't the enemy, _Riddle_ was, and Draco was sitting with them. Though she couldn't see his face, he looked as if he were just having breakfast with an old friend.

She knew it was a necessity by circumstance, keeping in mind that he had gotten stuck in the same house as Riddle. But she just hadn't expected him to befriend the snake on the first day of school.

She would have to affront him about it later, she thought drearily.

oOo

"Bit of silence ladies and gents, if you please?" Slughorn smiled vaguely as the classroom fell quiet. Hermione settled next to Selene and Mina. "Now now, I am pleased to welcome you to another year at Hogwarts. As you may all know, the OWLS are near and I have prepared a challenge for you today."

—You are going to be paired with one other student today and you will be brewing the potion on page ten, the first pair to get it done right will gain a good amount of points to their house. Now…"

Tom cleared his throat and raised his hand. "Sir?"

Slughorn stopped talking and focused his gaze on Riddle. "Yes, m'boy?"

"Sorry for interrupting you sir, I was merely wondering if we are permitted to work alone."

Everyone turned to stare at Tom and Slughorn let out a laugh. "Now Tom, I know you like to shine alone, but I'm afraid I cannot let you, m'boy. You'll just have to work in company of another. I am well sure that won't be a bother?"

Tom forced a smile, "Of course not, sir."

"As I was about to say, the potion you will be brewing is Draught of Living Death. Can anyone tell me what effects it produces?"

As always, everyone's eyes turned to Tom. Hermione narrowed her eyes at this. Tom, feeling satisfied and enjoying the attention, responded, "It's an extremely powerful sleeping draught sir; it sends the drinker into a deathly slumber."

"Excellent m'boy, now can anyone tell me which potion is the only one capable of reversing the effect of the draught?"

"The Wiggenweld Potion, sir," Hermione said suddenly, causing everyone turn to stare at her. She felt a smile play on her lips as she noted the expression on Tom's face.

"That is correct, Ms. Austen. Looks like you will have some competence this year, Tom."

Riddle feigned a smile. "It's a good thing I'm a gentlemen, then."

"On that note—Tom you will be with…Ms. Austen," Slughorn said.

Hermione could feel something hammering in her ears.

"Ms. Stuttgart and Mr. Williams." Selene strolled forward to another Ravenclaw.

"Mr. Laurent and Mr. Malfoy."Draco paled, if that was even possible. After Slughorn had paired the rest of the rest, he boomed, "Now, to your partners."

Hermione stood where she was, staring at Tom placidly, but he didn't make a move towards her. In fact, it looked as if he didn't have any plans of moving at all. Groaning, she made her way towards his desk.

Apparently, he hadn't noted her presence as he was absorbed in his potions book. She coughed lightly, crossing her arms against her chest uneasily.

Tom raised his head and faked a smile. "Ah, Ms. Austen, shall we start with our potion?"

Hermione sat angrily next to him and opened her book to page ten. She had already made the potion in her sixth year and she remembered how angry she used to get when Harry had managed to make a perfect potion due to his stinkin' book.

oOo

Draco couldn't complain. He was just paired with his grandfather whom just couldn't keep his arrogant mouth shut. Abraxas stared at him disdainfully, probably still resentful for what had happened at breakfast. Draco had seen the looks on their perplexed faces. They just couldn't figure out why their Lord would invite a stranger to join them, and they were overcome with fear that Riddle wouldn't pay them much attention anymore. What they didn't know was that Tom held absolute no affection for them whatsoever. They were just his puppets and nothing more.

He rolled his eyes sardonically as he took a sopophorous bean and began to crush it.

After a while, Slughorn began to pace around the room to note the progress that his students had achieved so far. "Very good m'boy, have you done this before?" he asked as he noted Draco's potion turning a light shade of lilac.

Draco smiled proudly as he noted Abraxas' befuddled expression. "First time, sir," he lied shamelessly.

"Well be sure to keep it up. I'm sure Mr. Malfoy would not mind getting better grades in potions this year."Abraxas squinted at him as he began chopping the valerian roots. Draco smirked.

Riddle was starting to get exasperated as he revised the book for the umpteenth time.

"Ms. Austen, I don't mean to interfere with your concentration, but according to the instructions you have to stir the potion counter-clockwise seven times, perhaps if you let me do it…"

Hermione's head snapped up from the book annoyed. Her hair started to get frizzy and her eyes held certain contempt. "No," she replied stubbornly, trying quickly to recall what Harry had done to get the potion perfect in their sixth year. "I am sure that if we stir the potion counter-clockwise seven times and clockwise once, we'll get a stronger effect."

Tom tried to stop his hands from twitching.

"Alright, stop stirring, if you please," Slughorn then called.

He began examining each cauldron cautiously, exclaiming occasionally.

"Very good, but it would surely have a lighter consistence if Ms. Stuttgart hadn't been experimenting with the asphodel," Slughorn mentioned with indulgency. Hermione noticed Selene's cheeks turning a soft pink.

Then he strolled towards Draco and Abraxas' table and nodded in approval. Slughorn completely overlooked Robert's potion, which had turned purple and then walked over to where Hermione and Tom were.

"Merlin's beard, looks as if we have a winner!" he said after he had taken a look. "Tom, m'boy, did you let Ms. Austen do anything at all?"

Tom smiled humbly, "I daresay professor she did just as much as I did."

Slughorn turned to look at her skeptical. "Don't tell me you haven't done this before?"

Hermione's cheeks coloured. "Er—sort of, sir. My parents taught me advanced potions."

"Excellent, it's simply perfect. I daresay one drop would surely kill us all," Slughorn said laughing. "Did you add anything else, Ms. Austen?"

"Yes, sir, I thought that if we stirred counter-clockwise seven times and then clockwise once it would surely be more potent."

She felt an uneasy feeling grow in the pit of her stomach. Back in her time she would surely be disappointed in herself for lying to a professor or for even attempting to cheat, but now using the instructions from the half-blood prince's book was a necessity if she wanted to prove herself to Riddle.

"How very clever of you, Ms. Austen! It seems like you have a good hand for potions."

"But sir, the instructions clearly stated that the potion must be stirred counter-clockwise seven times, if done differently the results could be disastrous…"

"Oh, Tom m'boy, the instructions in the book are only standard, not even close to N.E.W.T level brewing. In more advanced potions making, stirring the potion clockwise once would create a stronger effect, very well thought."

Tom's eyes flashed dangerously.

"50 points to Slytherin and Ravenclaw each," he indicated. "Now, class dismissed—Er…Ms. Austen, Mr. Laurent, if I could speak to you for a moment?"

Hermione and Draco advanced hesitantly to the professor's desks, where Slughorn stood storing bundles of ingredients carefully into their respective containers.

"You called us, professor?"

"Ah, yes, I was wondering if you two would enjoy attending a gathering that I occasionally throw for ah… my more _advanced _students. Great minds and intellectuals! At my office at eight in formal dress if you will! It is the first soiree of this year, so I am sure you will enjoy mightily."

Draco's forehead creased. _Was he for real? _

"But…" Hermione began to say.

"No buts, Ms. Austen, I will expect you at 8pm, my office," Slughorn said jovially before disappearing out the door.

Draco didn't talk to Hermione, didn't say a word. Hermione had to admit that his sudden estrangement struck her as odd, but she didn't comment. They both had the right to keep their thoughts to themselves, although it concerned her a bit.

O

Tom had a free hour and walked directly to the library. Ms. Austen certainly had an ability to annoy the hell out of him.

First, her behavior in potions had been unacceptable. He just didn't like to be contradicted. She had left him looking completely inept at potion making! Second, she had a habit of provoking uneasiness within him, a kind of powerlessness. Every time he looked at her he could see there was something odd about her, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He had always been more observant than others, paid attention to small details. Little things that others mostly overlooked. And now there was that small little detail about her that just threw him.

Something he hadn't paid full attention to since the start and he had begun to blame himself for it. He knew there _was_ something else to her story since he had found them lying unconscious in the yard, he just didn't know what.

Tom couldn't just use Legilimency on Hermione, not after what he had found. Not only did she prove to be a clever witch but also highly skilled in Occlumency.

Perhaps there were some loopholes, correction: there _had_ to be some loopholes. Tom knew that everything Hermione had told him about their pasts were lies. He was rather good at uncovering liars, the trick was knowing _why_ they would lie in the first place. There had to be some outstanding motive for their deceit.

He put these thoughts behind him as he entered the library. It was mostly empty, except for a group of Hufflepuff students sitting in a corner and reading a book on animagi.

As he walked through different aisles, his gaze kept straying backwards to the door that read 'Restricted Section'. He had already searched there before and had found nothing, so instead he moved down the aisle and turned a corner until he found a very good place to sit, somewhere where he wouldn't be bothered.

He carefully withdrew a worn book from his bag.

_Hogwarts: A History._

He flipped the book open and scanned the index for the title 'Slytherin', although it was completely unnecessary seeing as he had already searched the same page over and over again, hoping to find some secret meaning between the lines.

"_Salazar Slytherin's darkest and most infamous secret." _

He bit his lip in concentration. He had totally lost count of how many times he had opened the book at the exact same page and was always unsuccessful in finding what he needed.

The results were clearly infuriating.

_Salazar Slytherin is reknowned for his contributions in helping build Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a joint effort among four great Witches and Wizards. The other founders, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw, did not agree with Slytherin's views on the students; that they should only teach those from all magical families. Disgruntled by constant arguments with Godric Gryffindor about the eligibility of their pupils, Salazar Slytherin left the school. _

Tom skipped the paragraph.

_There is also Salazar Slytherin's darkest and most infamous secret; of course, it is said that is nothing but a myth, we will not give further explanations about the aforementioned secret. _

That was all that it said. Nothing more. No explanations—nothing. Tom sighed in frustration. He massaged his temple and spared a glance at his watch.

oOo

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. After dinner, Hermione and Robert went back to the Ravenclaw Tower. Selene didn't join them because professor Hearnest—their Charms teacher—needed to talk to her privately.

It turned out Robert was really nice, and surprisingly enough his personality was like a mixture of Harry's and Ron's. He was modest, clever, and humble, but he was also funny and a bit immature, and that made her like him a bit more. His presence was pleasant. He continued talking about Hogwarts during their journey towards their tower. Hermione just nodded or sometimes even exclaimed 'Ah' or 'really?' several times.

They entered and Robert immediately threw himself on a couch next to Mina. Hermione sat next to him as she waited patiently for Selene to arrive. At exactly 7:00 pm Selene appeared.

She smiled as she saw her and made her way towards her.

"Hi."

"Hi," Hermione responded. "Why did professor Hearnest need to talk to you?" she asked intending to sound casual.

"He just wanted to discuss some charms with me." From what Hermione saw during charms class with the Gryffindors, Selene was rather good in charms. Selene raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were going to attend Slughorn's party tonight."

"It's not until 8 o' clock. But I don't think I am going."

"Why not? It must be a great opportunity to meet people from other houses."

"Are you going?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"No. I have never been invited into the Slug Club."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow confusedly.

"Why not? You're so clever."

Selene shrugged. "I don't think Slughorn likes the fact I experiment a lot and I don't have any famous relatives."

"Well, that's dumb…my parents were mu…" Hermione stopped herself before she could say something more. "I mean, my parents weren't famous either."

"Yes, but you deserve to be invited, Hermione," she said kindly. "Besides Mina will be attending as well, aren't you Mina?"

The girl looked up from where she had been engaged in a conversation with Robert and another girl. "Did you say my name, Selene?"

"Yes, I was just telling Hermione that you would be attending Slughorn's party tonight as well."

"Oh," Mina said smiling "Yes, will you be going, Hermione?"

The girl shrugged. "Probably."

"Nonsense," Selene replied. "You need to have fun."

"But… I have nothing to wear," Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. She had never worried about what she wore and this time was no different. Maybe she just needed an excuse to not attend. "I don't even know…does it have to be too formal?"

"Well, it's the first soiree of the year and having in mind that this is Slughorn we're talking about, I'm guessing fairly formal would be adequate…and I'm sure the dress won't be a problem, you and I are almost the same size, I'm sure I can lend you something."

Hermione cringed. "But…"

"No buts… come with me."

Mina took Hermione by the arm and forced her up the stairs. Selene followed them smiling. When they reached the girls dorms, Mina opened her trunk.

She began throwing clothes everywhere until she found something right at the bottom.

"Hmm, what about this?" she asked, handing Hermione a navy blue dress. Hermione examined it closely. The neckline was definitely not one she would wear and the color wouldn't suit her, either. She shook her head apologetically and placed the dress on Mina's bed.

Mina continued rummaging through her stuff with Selene giving her small advices of what would fit Hermione better. Finally, Mina stopped and pulled out a dress.

"I think this would suit you well."

Hermione looked at it. Well, it didn't look too bad. Of course, it wasn't something she would have picked on her own, but it was bearable.

"I'll try it on, but if it doesn't fit me I won't go, alright?"

Mina cringed but she didn't argue. When Hermione came out of the bathroom she could see Selene's and Mina's faces flush with excitement.

"So…how is it?" she asked nervously.

"It's lovely. Why won't you look in the mirror?" Selene asked.

Hermione went over and chewed her lip. It wasn't anything extraordinary, but it was perfect for a simple party. The brace clung to her waist and the soft silk unfolded below her hips.

It could probably be worse.

oOo

The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in an orange light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling. There were only a few students, each engaged in their own chattering.

"Refreshment, miss?"

Hermione shook her head and continued to stand on her own whilst the rest of the Slug club mingled with each other. She caught herself looking for Draco and felt her chest fill with the air she had been repressing when she spotted him sitting in one corner, scrutinizing a cup full of what looked like punch closely.

She walked towards him.

"Hi," she murmured quietly as she settled next to him.

Draco turned to see her. He looked somewhat disheveled, his hair was a little messy and his lips were pressed into a thin line. He nodded in acknowledgment.

"What a party, huh?"

"I've been to better."

Hermione smiled bitterly. "We haven't seen Riddle yet. That's got to count for a good thing."

He didn't say anything and took a sip of his drink. She pursued her lips. She didn't like how bitter Draco was being and she didn't like how she'd seen him having breakfast with Riddle's lackeys.

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"Why were you with Riddle and his people this morning?"

_Damned Granger! _

"Riddle asked me to join them," he replied curtly.

Hermione cocked her head. "Did he? And why did you?" she angrily muttered.

"Are you interrogating me, Granger?" he muttered angrily, making sure no one heard them.

"No, I'm just asking why…"

"It's not mere curiosity, is it?" he interrupted.

Hermione sighed in resignation. "I'm afraid…" she admitted, her cheeks turning pink.

Draco quirked an eyebrow until he finally seem to understand. "You're afraid that I would be weak enough to fall into the clutches of Riddle again, aren't you?"

Hermione flinched at how harsh his words sounded. "I'm not saying it with that meaning…I'm just afraid he might be able to manipulate you."

"But that's just the same, isn't it? It all turns down to weakness," he snapped. "Do not pretend you know him just because he's killed everyone you loved, because you've seen _nothing_."

Hermione cringed at his hurtful words but Draco continued unaware, "I know how he manipulates, what he wants…who's to say I am not doing the same?"

"You are?"

"Whatever, Granger," he muttered her surname again quietly. The way he said it made it sound like a curse. "I'm just doing my part. We had to gain his trust, remember? You just stick to any plan that you have and I'll stick to mine." His grey eyes were cold and hard.

"I'm really sorry," she mumbled quietly but flinched as she heard his bitter laugh.

"You're always apologizing, aren't you?"

Hermione's hands began to tremble. Why was he so cruel? Was it because of what she'd said or something else? Either way she was not going to listen to him criticizing her if he didn't appreciate the fact that she was the only person here that cared about him and the only person he could rely on.

She stared at him blankly, her brown eyes trembling in regret as she waited for him to say something more coherent. Their little argument, however, was soon disrupted by the addition of a new voice.

"Is everything alright?" _Oh, how she hated that voice! So slight and ravishing. _

Hermione tore her gaze from Draco's and squinted at Tom, who was staring there, looking charming. "Yes, we were just talking."

Tom looked at her, an odd expression crossing his perfect Adonis face. "I must have been mistaken then. I thought I saw you arguing." Hermione held his gaze, trying to keep her expression light and detached.

"Everything's fine," Draco commented and Riddle turned to face him, his grey eyes blank and his face unemotional.

"Yes, it's fine," Hermione affirmed with a small laugh that made her sound desperate. "Now, I think I'm getting thirsty, please excuse me."

She walked away, biting her lip in anger, and accidently bumped into someone on her way out. She blinked several times until her vision had adjusted to Slughorn's gaudy green robes.

"Ah… Ms. Austen, and how are we doing tonight?" he boomed jovially. "Have you already met some of my students in my little club?"

Hermione faked a smile, "I haven't been here long, sir. So I'm afraid I haven't."

"Oh, well that's a shame. There are plenty of interesting students I would like you to meet. You see that boy over there? That's John Jenkins. His mother is an Unspeakable of the Ministry of Magic, such sweet woman! She was one of my most precious students when she studied here…" Slughorn continued with his list until Hermione excused herself under the guise that she needed a drink.

Hermione walked away from her professor and noted his gaze from afar. She tore her gaze from him and walked towards a small and squeaky house-elf.

"Excuse me?" she asked gently.

"Can Gipsy offer miss anything?" the elf said with a screechy voice.

"Can you bring me some punch, please?"

"Gipsy will be right back with misses' punch." The small elf came rushing back a few seconds after and gave her a cup of punch. "Gipsy has brought misses' punch, is anything else Gipsy can do for miss?"

Hermione shook her head lightly "No that'll be it, thank you." She watched the small elf bow and scurry back to attending other people. She then sat in a free spot hidden in a corner, willing to spend the rest of the night sitting there.

The music was soft, slipping into the air, caressing the bystanders' ears.

The room was filled with students clad in their most formal clothing, many feigning smiles between them. The number of people only seemed to increase as the time passed. The house- elves who were attending to the guests went from one side to another—carrying and bringing snacks—making their way squeakily through people, obscured by the enormous silver platters, which Hermione thought angrily, must've been too heavy for them to bear.

Among the crowd she could spot several teachers, including the Charms teacher, the DADA teacher and the Herbology witch. Her gaze fell upon Slughorn. She saw him unfold in the crowd, smiling at all times, although she could notice the exact moments where he turned hypocritical.

She placed a brown strand of hair behind her ear and she took a sip of her drink, the sweetish taste of the punch wetting her throat.

"Care if I sit?" Hermione looked up but didn't say anything. "Is everything alright?"

"Stupendously," she replied dryly.

Tom squinted. "You seem quite feisty tonight, may I take it it's because of Laurent?"

Hermione sighed. "We had a bit of a misunderstanding. Nothing to be too concerned about." She looked away and took another sip. This time it was almost inevitable that she wrinkled her nose in disgust. The punch was too sweet, it burned her throat.

Tom's expression turned into a doubtful smirk. "I wouldn't recommend you drink the punch. Slughorn has the tendency to put too much sugar in his refreshments and beverages. I wouldn't be too surprised if he'd asked the house-elves to put in just an extra dose of sweetener."

Hermione turned to stare at him, her eyebrow mildly raised. "It would've been better if you had mentioned that a couple of minutes before I took the punch."

"Nothing we cannot fix," he replied. "I've heard from a reliable source that someone has brought a flask of Firewhiskey."

Hermione looked at him incredulously. "I don't want you adding anything to my drink, if that's what you're offering. _Thanks,_" she replied scathingly.

"Now, Ms. Austen, I wouldn't want you thinking badly of me now. Both of us know you aren't here for pleasure, so why not make this evening a bit more bearable?"

Hermione hesitated and then her gaze fixed on Draco, who was standing on one corner watching her through narrowed eyes. With a most un-Hermione-ish attitude she finally nodded.

oOo

She had drunk three and a half cups of Firewhiskey so far and just because she had nothing better to do. Or had been four and a half? Either way, she was enjoying the sensation the Firewhiskey was producing on her body. She felt lighter, happier. The evening started to go by faster and everything she saw seemed funny.

Hermione knew it had been totally reckless—in another, different, and more reasonable moment she would've declined the offer of the future Dark Lord into getting her drunk and would've gotten as far away from him as possible, but now she just didn't want to do anything. She just wanted to enjoy the evening.

They both remained silent for what seemed like an eternity.

Hermione started noticing how the centre of the room was filling with couples, swaying to the music. She could even see Slughorn had gathered some random couples and incited them to dance. Before she could think of the implications that this would entail, Tom's voice brought her out of her reverie.

"Dance with me."

Hermione turned to stare at him. She squinted, trying to focus on his face, but he kept moving, suddenly there were three Riddles'.

"Huh?"

"Dance with me," he repeated.

"Is this a joke?" she stared at him as though he had asked her something utterly ridiculous.

Tom frowned. "I'm not sure of why you would think I'd be joking," he replied shortly. She tried to put some resistance in her rejection and stayed firmly in her seat, but he pulled her up as if she weighed nothing at all.

Hermione's head immediately started to spin and she barely managed to stumble her way towards the centre. She knew she would have probably fallen over if Tom had not been holding her upright with a well placed hand on her back. From the corner of the eye, she saw he had a bemused expression on his face.

_Stupid Riddle! Why wasn't he hallucinating or stumbling like she was? _She cursed inwardly.

He was a good dancer, but again what wasn't he good at? He seemed to be perfect at everything he did, except perhaps being honest.

His feet were gliding on the floor gracefully without one single error, whilst she kept tripping over her own feet repeatedly. She couldn't blame this on her two left feet entirely; her hazy vision and growing migraine had something to do with it for sure.

She was getting dizzier with each movement they made and there wasn't anything she wanted more than to get away from him.

"Glad to see you two are getting along so splendidly," Slughorn said as he passed by them. Hermione narrowed her eyes trying to focus her vision. "Ms. Austen, are you feeling quite alright?"Tom stiffened. Hermione nodded, although it wasn't such a good idea because her head began throbbing. "You must probably be tired. Why don't you go back to your common room?"

"That's probably a good idea," she mumbled quietly, thanking to have an excuse to get away from him.

"Do you want me to walk you to your common room?" Tom asked politely.

"No, that's fine. I can walk."

"What kind of gentlemen would I be if I let you walk in such state? Seeing as you're utterly intoxicated I wouldn't be too surprised if you faint before you even get there."

_You wish, _Hermione thought angrily.

Reluctantly, Hermione left the party accompanied by Tom, she didn't look back to look for Draco. They walked in silence through the deserted corridors. Aside from not wanting to speak to the monster, Hermione felt that if she emitted a sound she would end up throwing up. Although the idea of throwing up over Riddle seemed appealing, she did not attempt to try.

Riddle was watching her carefully, as though expecting her to do something strange. Hermione had no idea what. All she could think of doing was returning to her dorm and settling down to sleep until her migraine lessened.

When they reached the fifth floor corridor, Hermione stumbled. Tom caught her firmly by the arm, his fingers clenched around her so tightly Hermione was sure she'd see a bruise appear the next day.

"I'm good," Hermione said lamely, straightening up and freeing herself from his grip.

Tom rolled his eyes. Hermione narrowed her eyes in response.

It was impossible to see where she was going in the darkness, though Tom seemed to have better night vision than her. Again she blamed that on the Firewhiskey.

Tom suddenly stopped, taking Hermione by the arm.

"What?"

"Shh," he hissed. "Someone's coming."

Hermione pricked her ears and then she heard it, feebly but growing louder there were footsteps.

"B-but you're a prefect, you won't get punished, will you?"

"You don't know Pringle," he whispered. "Just for catching us here he'll probably threaten us to hang us by the ankles in the dungeons until Christmas."

Hermione gulped. He sounded just like Filch.

Seeing no doors they could dive through, Riddle pulled her into a notch in the wall, which a tall statue guarded. Riddle cast a disillusionment charm on them and pressed her against him. Hermione's head was spinning. Riddle's face was so close to hers, the moonlight embellishing his chiseled features.

Stupid Firewhiskey was making her delirious.

There wasn't much room behind the statue. She crouched down, almost completely hidden in shadows, but a faint light reflecting on their faces almost made her gasp until she remembered that Pringle could not see them.

She could feel Riddle's rhythmic breathing caressing her skin. She tried to hold her breath until she could see Pringle walking away and get lost in the shadows once more. When Tom considered it safe to come out of their hiding, he lifted the charm.

Hermione clutched her dress and pulled away from him.

"You're welcome," Tom sneered. Hermione arched on eyebrow.

"I'd have managed on my own," she replied stubbornly.

"I doubt that. First, showing up at the Hospital wing at such hours with a broken nose and then gain detention on your first day will surely give your people something to talk about, don't you think?" By his low tone, she could sense he was smirking broadly.

Hermione gritted her teeth. "Can we go, now?"

Tom nodded and they kept walking for a few minutes until they reached the entrance for the Ravenclaw tower.

As expected, a melodious voice broke the silence. "Is the pen mightier than the sword?"

Hermione thought for a few minutes and finally responded, "Yes, whilst the sword can injure physically, words are our most mighty weapon. It can both injure and heal."

The door creaked open and Hermione was about to take a step forward when she felt Riddle's hand take her wrist.

_Not again, _she prayed.

"Yes?"

"I believe there is something you wish to tell me."

_No, there's really isn't._

"Is there?"

Riddle smirked and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer. Hermione sighed. _Why couldn't she just be in bed already?_

"Thank you," she said grudgingly.

"Now that wasn't too hard to say, was it?"

No response.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

She couldn't help but flinch at the mention of _her_ name. _So they were on first-name basis now? Well, it didn't work for her. _

"Goodnight, Riddle," she hissed, but he had already disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

><p><em>AN: so please tell me what you think? This chapter wasn't too long I think, well just because I'm such a good person I'll give you a few teasers for next chapter, but you have to review :) it isn't too hard, just click that blue button below. I'm watching you haha._

_**Teasers. **_

"_Just let him leave…please."- Hermione to ?_

_**And.**_

"_She is to be mine." - ? _

_Review. Love you! _


	7. Ina false quarrel there is no true valor

_**Disclaimer**__: I think you've already figured it out. I own nothing. _

_Thank you for everyone who has reviewed. I want to thank as always my lovely beta Pooja, she's freaking amazing. _

_**T-** thanks :)_

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_**Lost O'Fallon Girl-** Aw I'm glad you do, thanks for reviewing._

_**Literature-angel-** What can I say, I enjoy being stalked :P it really means a lot to me that you keep in touch with this story as well as some other people, thanks. _

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**_semantics-_**_Gosh I love you girl! hahaha seriously, thanks a bunch for taking the time to write such loooong reviews, it means a lot. You'll just have to keep up so all your doubts are answered ;)_

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_Enjoy. _

_O_

The week went flying by and Hermione had more homework than even she had expected. However, she liked it. It kept her distracted and it was also a great excuse to not have to talk to Selene, Robert, or Mina. While they were engaging in random chit-chat, she could pretend to be absorbed in her essay.

The truth was she had been in a foul temper ever since Slughorn's party. Draco kept avoiding her every time they bumped into each other in the halls or in classes. She would have hoped he would have forgiven her by now, but he seemed more focused on ignoring her than in trying to fix things between them. It wasn't that she was being melodramatic, but they were in this together now—there was no one else.

He also seemed to be gaining Riddle's peers' trust slowly as she saw how they started including him a bit more in classes, though it didn't escape her attention that Riddle was absent most of the time. Either he disappeared for periods or he was there, but somehow he seemed as if his mind were somewhere else.

She also couldn't help noticing Draco looking thinner, slovenly, and there were ever present dark circles around his eyes. Hermione was starting to get worried. She tried to come up with multiple reasons of why he seemed to have aged a lifetime in such a short period.

But it was a useless exercise. It didn't matter what she came up with. In the end, they all lead to the same thing: Riddle.

She had the odd feeling that Riddle was behind Draco's sudden decline in health. She couldn't find any other explanation to his sudden deterioration, unless there was something Draco wasn't telling her. But then again, he hadn't spoken a word to her for a week.

Hermione raised her quill and dotted and 'I' as she looked around the common room absently. She had been so deep in her thoughts that she didn't notice how hard she had dotted the letter and punctured a hole in her parchment.

She sighed and put her quill down. Selene and Mina didn't notice it and both remained engrossed in their conversation. As the first week passed, they had learned to not interrupt Hermione while she was doing homework or else she would get feisty.

Hermione didn't mind their distraction and kept looking around distractedly. There were only a few people in the common room, it was Saturday and most of them were outside, enjoying the nice weather.

Her gaze stopped at a squat girl, sitting in one corner alone. She was scribbling furiously on her parchment, occasionally looking at a book propped open at her side. She had dark, lank hair and very thick glasses.

A hint of recognition crossed her face but she couldn't quite figure out where she knew the girl from. Perhaps if she turned her head a little…

Hermione narrowed her eyes in concentration.

The girl suddenly strengthened in surprise and her parchment lit on fire.

Hermione let out a brief gasp and she immediately turned away when the girl looked around to find the cause, her lip trembling lightly. She looked at her out of the corner of her eye and her heart gave a jolt as she recognized the girl. It was Moaning Myrtle—alive.

Myrtle searched for her wand and finally managed to stop the fire. The parchment was blackened and Hermione could see the sadness reflected on Myrtle's face.

Hermione immediately felt a wave of remorse overcoming her even though she had not done it on purpose.

She put all her things in her bag and stood up shakily.

Selene and Mina turned to see her.

"Everything alright, Hermione?" asked Mina.

"Yes, I just need some fresh air," she lied unconvincingly.

"Do you want us to accompany you?" Selene asked.

"No," she hastened to say. "It's alright, I just need some alone time. I think I'm a bit smothered that's all…some fresh air will do me good."

Neither argued and Hermione was thankful for it. She sauntered off until she finally reached the school grounds.

The weather was perfect.

She made her way towards the lake, still feeling some sort of oppression in her chest. If she hadn't lit her parchment on fire, Myrtle would've continued working happily, and now thanks to her, Myrtle would have to do her homework again.

She was the cause, although she didn't know how she had done it. Had she used wandless magic?

As Hermione passed by some students, she could hear snippets of their conversations drift into her ears—some talking about their classes, families, or even the Hogsmade trip next weekend.

As she came closer to the lake, she sprawled out in the grass and squinted as the gilded rays blinded her.

She closed her eyelids and began to feel how her extremities began to go numb. Hermione tried to forget about Myrtle, Draco, and Riddle. She just wanted to focus on the air brushing her cheeks, and the sun rays bathing her skin.

o0o

She didn't know how long she had been lying in the grass. She must have fallen asleep because as she opened her eyes she could see the sky turning grey.

Suddenly she began hearing a couple of voices not too far away.

"What should we do with this one, huh Avery?"

"Hmm, I don't know…how about we practice a bit, Nott."

And suddenly there was some sort of screech.

Hermione turned around to the source of such commotion. Not too far away, there were two boys—they were tall and in the distance they seemed intimidating, probably fifth years or older—they seemed to be practicing magic, she couldn't really focus their silhouettes well enough.

Another screech and maniac laughs.

Hermione startled, she squinted. They weren't just using magic; they were using magic on some boy.

"Please…let me go!" the child begged. "Make it stop!"

The tallest boy laughed. "We're just not quite finished."

"And they say you Gryffindors are brave. You don't seem much brave to me now," the other boy hissed.

Without thinking twice, Hermione let her inner Gryffindor take over her and stood up, rushing over to where they were.

Nott smiled mischievously and intensified the spell on the boy. The child began to scream again.

"_Silencio!" _Avery said, pointing his wand at the boy. No sound emitted from the boy's mouth, although anyone could see his vain attempts to scream.

"Leave him alone!" her brown eyes blazed with fury as she glared at them. "Stop it! He's just a boy, can't you see?"

Nott lifted the spell from the child and pointed his wand at her. Avery put a hand on his arm and shook his head as he cocked his head to one side, watching her with morbid curiosity.

"But look what we have here…you're the new girl, aren't you?" Hermione narrowed her eyes and her fingers searched for her wand.

"Stop it!" she said, with greater courage than she actually felt.

"Ah, but look, you're just like the Gryffindors," Nott hissed, taking a step forward. Hermione unconsciously took one back.

The little boy was holding his rib with his left hand, breathing heavily against the grass.

"Just let him leave…please."

"But where will the fun be in that? Perhaps you would like to play with us," Nott teased, raising his wand. This time Avery did not stop him as he now wore an ugly expression on his face.

Hermione gulped. Before she could cast a spell she felt something cut her left cheek, Nott was smiling smugly.

Avery was about to cast a spell when Hermione shouted, "Stupefy."

The spell missed Avery by an inch and he let out a disgusting laugh. "Looks like the lady wants to play."

Hermione was about to cast another spell when she felt her wand wrenched out of her fingers and fly from her hands straight into Nott's. She felt her heart spring into a sprint. _What would she do now?_ Run? No, that would be too cowardly, although putting up a fight without a wand would seem foolish.

Wandless magic, perhaps? She hadn't ever practiced it. It was true one could do wandless magic under times of distress but consciously control it? That seemed highly impossible to do under a time like this.

Nott threw her wand just a couple of meters away from her. Before she could think of the number of possibilities she had to run and reach her wand, she felt something burn her skin. And then, she didn't notice anything else except for the water that filled her lungs. They had submerged her into the lake. They were using magic on her and now she couldn't move on her own.

All she could focus on at the time was darkness. Everything seemed black now. She couldn't even tell where the surface was.

She struggled to hold her breath, keep her lips sealed so as not to let her last provision of oxygen escape.

Then her head broke to the surface. Hermione opened her mouth to catch a whiff of air but she was submerged into the waters once again. The cold water was numbing her arms and legs. Hermione kept stroking and kicking hard, but it was to no avail. All she could feel was water, filling her lungs until it hurt to breathe.

Then she resurfaced, and then pushed mercilessly back underwater—again and again, creating exhaustion in each and every body part. She ached in places she didn't even know existed. Her vision started to get hazy. All she could make out were shades of grey and black.

She couldn't feel anything anymore. Her mind was blank and her skin numb. The only thing she could make out was the waters currents flowing around her body, caressing her.

There was something burning in her chest and slowly rising up to her throat.

She needed air…oxygen.

Her only preoccupation was now that…she needed to breathe.

Her head was getting dizzy. She could feel her eyes closing and her mind drifting away, but she fought to remain conscious.

The water eventually flooded her throat, choked her completely until it burned her.

Her head broke to the surface, gasping for air and spitting water out of her mouth. She felt her head smash abruptly against the dirt. Her hair was plastered to her face. Hermione spastically blinked and choked out more water.

"Not feeling so brave now, huh?" Avery snickered. He raised his wand once more.

"That's enough," a familiar voice commanded.

Hermione could barely see their faces, although she would recognize the third voice anywhere. Before she could do anything, her body was racked by coughs.

Riddle came walking towards them, his wand in his hand. He was completely infuriated. Though his face betrayed no sense of emotion, his eyes said differently. His grey orbs were burning. His hands gripped his wand so strongly that his knuckles had turned white.

"T—Tom," one of the boys muttered fearfully.

"I said that's enough, Avery," Tom responded coldly. "Go back to the castle. I'll deal with you later." His demeanor was daunting and colder than stone. Hermione felt as shudders traveled down her spine. She felt her head spinning and all she could force her eyes to focus on were blurry images.

Both Nott and Avery seemed terrified. They nodded shakily and hurried back to the castle. Tom watched them scurried away like little rats and then turned to face Hermione. His chiseled features were cold and hard. Hermione fought to keep her eyes open.

"R—Riddle," she stuttered, her lips trembling for the cold.

"You should've learned by now, Ms. Austen, what company is good to keep and which aren't." He made sure to punctuate each of his word carefully.

Hermione felt tears of anger sting her eyes. She forced herself on her knees, ignoring the pain the action caused. She pressed one of her hands on the ground beside her and struggled to straighten herself out of her current undignified posture.

"They _are_ your friends. Surely I am not the only one unable to recognize the bad company," she tried to yell. When she managed to get up she was trembling from head to toe. "Why did you not deign to punish them, hm? You _are_ a prefect after all."

His eyes flashed dangerously.

"They will receive their punishment," he said simply in a tone that held such a sinister edge that Hermione shivered. "A simple thank you would surely suffice."

"They could've drowned me," she said through gritted teeth, her hands trembling slightly.

"…If I had not stopped them," Riddle concurred. "You should get back to your common room, get a nice bath and clean that blood off your cheek." There was a sharp edge that made it sound more like an order than a mere suggestion.

Hermione just glared at him wordlessly, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I can't…your _friend_ threw my wand who knows where," she retorted.

Tom nearly rolled his eyes. He raised his wand, and for a moment Hermione was afraid he would curse her, but instead he just muttered, _"Accio wand."_

Hermione's wand flew out from a spot in the grass and landed in Tom's hand. He handed it to her and she took it mistrustfully. Without looking at him she lurched towards the castle. Tears fringed her eyes but she straightened up, wiping the unshed tears. She would not deign to cry again and break those inexistent barriers she had created for herself.

Just as she was about to turn in one of the halls she bumped into a kid.

He was tiny and very thin. He looked no more than 12 years old, if not younger. The boy pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and Hermione could see how his hazel eyes were fixed remorsefully on hers.

"Miss?" the boy croaked. And it was then when Hermione recognized him as the boy Avery and Nott were bullying earlier before the incident. "I—I'm sorry." The boy's lips trembled and she had the impression he was suppressing tears.

"Y-you helped me…and y-you shouldn't h-have," he stuttered "I-I'm in G-Gryffindor and I didn't defend m-myself."

Hermione instantly felt an uncontrollably pity for the boy.

"Ssh," she mumbled gently, placing one arm across the boy's shoulder. "Its okay. What's your name, honey?"

"C-Charles…Charles P-Potter," the boy mumbled quietly.

Hermione blinked and felt a strange tightness in her chest. _This was Harry's grandfather._

"It's okay Charles, its okay. I'm Hermione," she said kindly.

"I know miss, I saw you being presented during the feast," the boy mumbled. "I'm sorry, miss… I went back to go get a teacher but the Slytherin prefect stopped me, he s-said I needed to stay here and that he was going to take care of it…that if I did differently, I would create a problem and that he was going to take points from G-Gryffindor."

Hermione stirred up.

"Listen, why don't you get back to your common room, Charles? I'll make sure the Slytherin prefect won't punish you, okay?"

The boy nodded and as he did Hermione thought she caught a glimpse of Harry in his innocent features. "But what about you? Won't you get in trouble?"

Hermione smiled kindly. "I'll manage." She winked and the boy smiled weakly in return.

"And what if those boys start practicing dark magic on me again?"

"Well…how about I'll help you there? I won't let anybody hurt you, Charles."

"Thanks, but I think I'll manage. I'm a Gryffindor, you see," he said proudly.

Hermione smiled. The affection she had for Harry's grandfather strengthened tenfold. "Everyone can use some help once in a while. You know, accepting help from others does not make you weaker. On the contrary, it makes you see that we all need something from someone, it's an essential part of being a human being and what makes you a true Gryffindor."

Charles's mouth was set in a frown. "Why weren't you in Gryffindor miss? You are so brave. You should've been in Gryffindor, for sure."

Hermione felt a finger touch her heart. "Well, I don't know. The hat put me where it thought it suited me best, although that does not mean I haven't got another houses' traits." She felt better now that she quoted Selene's words.

The boy tried to respond but couldn't help but yawn instead.

"You're tired, why don't you go to your common room now, hm?"

Charles nodded, covering his mouth with his bony hand to stifle another yawn. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Hermione tapped a finger against her temple thoughtfully and then smiled. "Of course."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

Hermione faltered. It surprised her he had called her Hermione instead of miss as he had done a few minutes ago.

She walked absentmindedly through the empty corridors. _Everybody must be at dinner, _she thought. When she reached the second floor bathrooms, she made sure to close the door behind her. She almost hoped to hear moaning Myrtle, but then—feeling a stab in her chest—she remembered Myrtle was still alive and having dinner, or most likely stuck in the common room, re-writing the essay Hermione had ruined hours ago.

She strode to one of the sinks. Hermione groped for her wand and cast an air-drying charm over herself. A burst of warm air rushed from Hermione's wand and her clothes and hair instantly dried. Then, "_Scourgify,_" she said softly, and the dirt on her clothes and skin, and the blood on her face vanished.

Hermione sighed as she untangled her hair. _It's okay. I'll go directly to the common room, finish my essay and pretend nothing ever happened. No one will suspect a thing and they won't have to worry. _

When she was ready, she stared back at her reflection on the mirror. She had a small cut on her left cheek right where Nott had aimed. She casted a glamour charm and strode towards the exit. She slammed the door behind her and drew in a deep breath.

_Just act natural. They won't suspect a thing. _

Just when she was about to reach the door of the Ravenclaw tower, she heard voices behind her.

"Hermione! Where you've been? You missed dinner," Selene said, walking towards her. Along with her there was Mina, Robert, a boy she hadn't met, and Ivy, although the girl pretended to not have seen her and stared at her nails.

"Yeah we haven't seen you all day," Robert added.

"Mina thought you would probably be in the library and so she went to look for you, but didn't say anything when she came back, we assumed she hadn't found you."

Hermione smiled. "I was relaxing by the lake, I must have fallen asleep. The weather was simply splendid."

They reached the door and the same melodious voice greeted them, asking. "Which is what has not yet been, that it should be, but when it is, it will no longer be?"

Selene put a finger on her temple. "Hmm what do you think, Hermione?"

Hermione frowned in concentration and she could hear Ivy sighing impatiently.

_Which is what has not yet been…_

_That it should be…_

_But when it is it will no longer be…?_

"I got it!" Robert exclaimed. "What should be, but has not yet been, but when it is it will no longer be…it's the day of tomorrow!"

The door creaked opened.

Ivy passed right by to Hermione, shoving her shoulder on purpose.

"Looks like you aren't the smartest one here," she commented disdainfully and then disappeared up the staircase.

"Don't listen to her, Hermione," Robert said. "She's just been in a foul mood lately."

"Yes, but don't blame it on her," Selene growled. "She's probably facing problems at home, I don't know if any of you've noticed but she's been getting a lot of owls during breakfast."

Selene was the kind of person who saw the good in people rather than focus on the bad.

"Maybe," Hermione shrugged. She didn't actually pay much attention to Ivy and she had definitely seen worse. Comparing them to Ivy…she wasn't too bad at all.

Robert threw himself on one couch and began transfiguring everything in sight-from a book to a quill, one of the cushions to a ferret and then a cushion again. Selene opened a book and began reading it, and Mina…well Mina seemed to be in a whole different world, her eyes were absent and she had been strangely quiet.

Robert, who was rather good at transfiguration, had kept Hermione entertained for some time until she was unable to hide her tiredness.

"I think I'm going to bed now," she said.

Hermione climbed up the spiral stairs reluctantly. She changed into her night robes and lay down in bed. Just as she was about to turn off the lights until she noted something protruding from her bag. She hadn't taken her bag with her to the lake, which meant she had left it in the common room and someone had brought it back up.

She grabbed her bag and pulled out two giant books. She didn't remember having put those in there. Hermione's eyes widened.

These were dark books, those which only could be found in the restricted section. One of them was titled 'Confronting the Dark Arts' and the other 'Magick Moste Evile'.

She recalled having read that book whilst searching for information on the Horcruxes. She basically hadn't read much of its contents due to its lack of information and it had been frustrating.

Hermione bit her lip. _But why were those books here? _Someone had to have put them in there and someone had to have placed the bag next to her door. It must have been someone in Ravenclaw, butthen again everyone could gain entrance to Ravenclaw tower if they answered, so it didn't necessary have to be a Ravenclaw precisely.

She suddenly recalled Riddle's words. '_Anyone smart enough, Ms. Austen'._

_Had it been Riddle? _It was a consideration, though how he could've snuck in the common room without anyone seeing him was something else entirely to consider.

Maybe the books were jinxed. Hermione held one of the books hesitantly and carefully opened it, squeezing her eyes shut and preparing for pain.

Nothing.

She let out a sigh of relief. Before she could read the first page, the door to the dorm opened. Hermione immediately closed the book and placed them inside her bag.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now," Ivy snapped.

"I was…reading." Hermione kept her right hand on her pocket, flicking it slightly to change the covers of the books without Ivy noticing.

'Confronting the Dark Arts' turned into 'The Mysteries of Dragons' and 'Magick Moste Evile' turned to 'Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms'.

Hermione could see Ivy glancing over to the covers. She looked away and then had to double check. She could have sworn she saw the letters move. Ivy squinted.

"Whatever. I'm going to sleep."

"Sweet dreams," Hermione mumbled sardonically under her breath. She had the impression Ivy had heard her because she heard her snort.

Now that Ivy was there, Hermione couldn't examine the books any further. She put them back into her bag and turned around in the bed, rolling herself in her sheets. She tried to forget about the day's events but she was sure that even if she tried to retain them, they would come back hunting her in her dreams.

Hermione prepared herself and turned off the light.

oOo

Draco walked silently towards the dungeons, his steps echoing through the deserted corridors.

His mind had been reeling with a million thoughts that he hadn't thought during the week. He had mostly been absent-minded. He had lost weight, he was sure. Also, the dark circles under his eyes had reappeared and he feared they would never go away.

He had been having nightmares as well, terrors so vivid that they made him clutch his hands to his sheets strongly night after night. He hadn't had any headaches yet but he had the feeling that they were going to return soon and he hoped that for once his instincts were wrong.

Before he swiveled to the next corridor, he heard whispers emanating from one of the classrooms. Holding his breath, he crouched down to the keyhole and listened intently.

"…Repeat that, Avery."

"I-I'm sorry, Tom."

"I've heard those pitiful words countless times, however, I must not let this incident repeat." There was a pause and the same cold voice talked. "I will make myself _perfectly_ clear now," Riddle snarled coldly. "You will not dare aim your wand at her, talk to her, or even _touch_ her, neither of you. Ms. Austen is only mine to torture, mine to touch. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes, Tom," several voices cried in unison. Draco had the impression Riddle was conducting one of his meetings.

On the other side of the door, Riddle was pacing calmly around the room, though his eyes were burning.

"T-tom?" one of the boys asked. "May I inquire? What do you need the girl for?"

Riddle narrowed his eyes, his orbs turning a dangerous black color. "It doesn't matter what I need her for, Rosier," he said sharply. "The point is I don't want anyone touching her. She is to be mine. Is that understood?"

Rosier bowed with trepidation. "Yes, Tom."

"Now, do not think I have forgotten what you've done this afternoon," he hissed, now addressing Nott and Avery. "You were far too careless, someone could've seen you, and a mistake like this cannot go unpunished."

"T-tom, p-p-please."

He aimed his wand at them and within seconds they were on the floor, squirming and writhing in pain. _Both of them at once. _

The bystanders stared in horror and amazement. None of them had been taught nonverbal spells yet, and Tom had mastered it perfectly. Not only had he been able to perform it on someone, but two people at once.

Tom's lips turned into a sneer as he watched the bodies collapsing and writhing on the floor at his feet. He casted a silencing charm on the door and continued watching with sick amusement how Nott clawed at his skin.

On the other side, Draco backed away from the door, his eyes wide in fright. It seemed as if Riddle had cast a silencing charm because suddenly he wasn't able to hear anything, nor did he want to either. Without a second glance he walked away from his spot and towards the dungeons, his mind racing.

_A/N: so what do you think? I really enjoyed writing the lake scene, mostly because I was dying to write a scene with water, haha; so most of it was narrative, sorry about that. Hope you liked the bit with possessive Tom. __**Please people, I have been seeing everyone who adds this to their alerts lists and favorites, if you take time to do that why not click that blue button below! I'll update sooner if you help me get to the big 100! Just 13 reviews left, so please guys help me with that. I have been noted that you reviewed more on past chapters, is it because my new chapters are boring or what? You can tell me anything :) **_

**_Teasers:_**

"I just came here to warn you."- Draco to Hermione.

**And**

_His grey eyes grew cold and hard as he stared greedily at the book in his hands. (?)_


	8. There is nothing either good or bad

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to JK Rowling. _

_A/N: Hey guys sorry for the late update, it's just that I have been studying for my exams but thank god they're over now. Anyway I hope you like this._

_Thanks to my SUPER FREAKING AMAZING WONDERFUL BETA POOJA! I love her, she's the best. Thanks for editing this super fast and supporting me. _

_Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. 108 reviews! You're amazing seriously. Keep it that way, won't you?:) _

_Like. The . Night, Maddie Rose, once and future, Edward-is-sexier-than-Mike, My. Evil .Cookie, PinkMusicalCherry, smileylol, AlwaysthereforTaraxx, m0nt, hateme101, Vinylprincessof1986, semantics, Sachita, amilie481516, imera._

_I'm sorry I haven't been able to respond to all of you; it's just that as I said I have been very busy with school, and I'm sorry I won't be able to respond in here. Gosh I feel bad I haven't thanked you enough for all your sweet comment, but you know I love you, right? Well stop chit-chatting, you're here to read the story not my author notes xD. _

O

When Hermione walked out of class, she could still feel Draco's eyes glued to her. She had tried to ignore it all throughout their shared class, but whenever she had looked out of the corner of her eye, she'd caught him glaring at her numerous times.

It was the same during dinner. He wouldn't stop staring at her and he hadn't even touched his food. There was just something about the uneasy manner he went about scowling at her that unnerved Hermione.

He looked as if he was having an internal battle with himself, as if he needed to tell her something. But this, of course, was a ridiculous topic to begin with, because he was still not talking to her.

She took a bite of her sausage and then a sip of her pumpkin juice. Hermione finally tore her eyes away from the Slytherin table and looked over at the Gryffindor table instead. She looked away, but then had to double check as she saw a small figure saluting her from afar. She squinted and smiled as she recognized the guileless, round face of Charles Potter. Hermione felt an instant source of warmth fill her up as she remembered her long, deceased friend.

She sighed and returned her attention back to her food. Selene and Mina were chatting about their Transfiguration homework. Hermione had had Transfiguration with Dumbledore that morning. The lesson had basically consisted of transfiguring a banana into a peach and only four students had gotten it right. Selene, Riddle, a guy from Slytherin, and her. Hermione hadn't overlooked how Dumbledore had completely ignored Riddle's achievement and the look of pure hatred on Tom's face.

She ate quickly and excused herself, saying she wasn't feeling so great and needed some fresh air. Selene watched her walk out of the Great Hall with worried eyes until she was out of sight.

The evening air was pleasant and cool as the sun dipped into its setting behind the mountains. Hermione explored the perimeter of the grounds, listening to the song of the crickets as she wrapped her robes more tightly about her, shivering at the contact of the cold air against her skin. When she eventually got bored of walking in circles in the Gardens she decided to go back to the warmth of the Common Room.

On her way up she decided to make a side trip. Hermione glanced at the pattern of moonlight and shadows that was the hall, and when she was sure there was no one in sight, she entered in an empty classroom, locking the door behind her.

Although she was entirely aware of the consequences this was going to bring, she took out the books anyway.

O

Tom rubbed his eyes and only barely managed to keep them open as he continued working on his essay. It was ironic, to say the least, that he already had dark circles under his eyes due to his habit of overworking. It was only the second week of the term!

He had tried to keep his mind focused on the Chamber of Secrets, which was one of his highest priorities at the moment. He had even arranged a meeting to take place on the weekend, when he knew everyone would be gone out to Hogsmeade. But he knew that it was barely enough. Already, he was balancing all of his school work during the week, whilst doing an extra research in the library at nights when he was supposed to be patrolling.

Tom had also been busy dealing with Dumbledore. The old man somehow seemed to suspect something and had set out to follow Tom wherever he went. It was almost as if the he could see right through Tom with his penetrating blue eyes.

He stifled a yawn.

"Tom?" a stuttering voice disrupted him from his thoughts.

He looked up at the trembling girl. He smiled charmingly and he noted a faint hint of color appear on her pale cheeks.

"Oh, Ivy," he said. "Good evening."

Her face suddenly fell into an apologetic expression. "Did I disturb you? Oh, I did, didn't I? I'm sorry, I thought that I'd find you here, but I didn't think you would be busy…"

Tom suppressed a disdainful snicker. _Did she always speak such utter rubbish? _he asked himself.

He shook his head and held up a hand to silence her. "You didn't disturb me. I was merely browsing. Is everything okay?" he added when he noted her hesitancy.

She nodded slightly. "I-I wanted to show you something."

"Oh?"

She looked around to make sure no one was listening in or paying attention to their exchange, although it was completely unnecessary since they were the only ones in library apart from a Gryffindor sitting in far off corner.

"Remember the book you told me about last year?"

It took him a moment to realize what she was talking about and then put on his best confused expression, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Which book?"

She giggled and pulled something from her bag, again looking around to make sure that no one saw them. When she was satisfied, she placed a thick text on the table. His gaze left her hers and fixated on the book before him. His face brightened as he looked deeply into her eyes in fake astonishment.

"You found it? _That's amazing!_ I had completely forgotten." Ivy couldn't help but blush at his praise. She almost felt as if she was drowning in his deep grey eyes, but tried to stay focused. "But… _how_?"

"Well, I asked my father about the book. He was completely taken aback of course. He began saying how such book wouldn't be appropriate for girls like me… I insisted and we had an argument, but after I convinced him it was for academic purposes only, he reluctantly got his hands on this. Remember how I told you he works at the ministry? He has access to the rarest archives and books." She looked at him tentatively, as if expecting all her efforts wouldn't be enough to get his approval.

Tom's smiled vanished almost immediately. "Oh, Ivy, I didn't mean to get you into such trouble with your dad."

"Don't worry about it. He's a real grouch," she smiled in what she no doubt thought was attractive.

"Oh, you shouldn't say that," he chided jokingly. "Parents are rather grumpy from times to time, but I'm sure he does have your best interests at heart."

Ivy smiled. "Here," she said, offering him the book.

Tom looked at her surprised, his beautiful grey eyes full of confusion. "What?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"I want you to have it, silly," she responded, giggling.

"Oh, I-I…Ivy, I can't accept it. Not after all the problems I've caused. You should keep it."

"Oh please, and keep tolerating my dad's reprimands? No, Tom, I know how much you enjoy reading. You're one of the cleverest students in school. You're the one who should keep it."

He looked at her with an endearing shyness on his face. "I think you have too high an opinion of me, Ivy."

She blushed. "Nothing you don't deserve."

He smiled humbly. "I still can't accept the book."

"Please? For me?" she teased, staring into his grey orbs.

He gulped nervously as his gaze traveled insecurely to the book and then to her again. "Alright," he said finally, "but only because you're asking me to."

She smiled, no doubt satisfied with her fake achievement. He stared at her so intensely it sent shivers down her spine.

"I have to go now, Ivy."

"Now?" He could see the disappointment reflected in her eyes.

"I'm afraid so. I have to go patrolling," he stated nonchalantly.

"But I don't want to go yet," she nearly whined.

_Foolish girl!_

"Me neither, but we cannot let someone catch us after curfew, can we? You should get back to your common room."

"But you wouldn't accuse me, would you Tom?" There was a silly trusting look on her face and he almost scoffed. Almost.

"Of course not, Ivy." He smiled reassuringly at her. "But I really have to go now and you should too, the library is about to close."

"Okay," she whispered sadly. Tom placed all of his parchment and quills carefully in his bag and picked up the precious book in his hands.

Ivy watched sadly as he walked down the aisle. He threw her one last smile before he disappeared into the darkness and exited the library. His charming smile immediately faded until it was only a hollow mask. His grey eyes grew cold and hard as he stared greedily at the book in his hands.

How easy it had been to charm and manipulate her into convincing her to get him the book. It was surprising how the human brain worked. Just a couple of flattering comments and a charming smile and he could get anyone to bow at his feet. He had always been able to charm the people he needed.

O

That evening, Hermione left Selene and Mina and found a spare classroom. She knew it was wrong for her to use things written in books that were clearly about Dark Magic. If Harry or Ron, or anyone else for that matter, caught her in the act, they would've thought she was mad. Never in her entire life would she have imagined herself opening a Dark book and preparing to carry out the instructions written down inside it.

Her fingers were shaking. She didn't even know if she could handle reading it, let alone practice it! From what she had read in the introductions, there were things in Dark Magic which were inconceivable, boundaries of magic she had never imagined.

Hermione gulped. She knew she shouldn't have opened the book in the first place, but reading had been her only indulgence. And curiosity was—as she perfectly knew—her weak point. She had never, ever, in her entire life, left a book unfinished.

Some people said that the Dark Arts enthralled you, called your soul, and horrid things of a similar fashion, but as she read on, she hadn't really felt attracted to any of the words written. She didn't think that practicing Dark Magic would instantly make you a bad Wizard. Many good Wizards practiced it as well, of course, like Dumbledore, for example.

Just because she was aware of the spells and rituals, it didn't necessarily make her a Dark Witch, did it? She would just have more knowledge than the average person. Dark and light were always intertwined in all aspects of life. One could not exist without the other. It was a subtle balance; one power source just completed the other. There was nothing wrong with wanting to learn it, if she looked at it from that perspective.

So why was her mind telling her it was wrong?

It wasn't as if she would practice any of the spells on anyone to harm them for pleasure, like Riddle so clearly did.

The book she had taken to reading that particular night was titled, '_Confronting the Dark Arts'. _She skipped through the introductory pages, which she had already read, until something caught her attention. There, before her eyes, was a long list of Dark spells she had never heard before, horrible spells.

Hermione flipped to the next page, browsing. Before she knew it, pages were turning of their own accord, each more horrible than the other, until she had completed the entire text. She took another book and turned to the first page.

'_Wandless Magic.'_

Well that wasn't too dark, was it? Many people she knew, or had known, performed it with ease. So it wouldn't be too bad if she learned about wandless magic, would it? Hermione twisted with her fingers nervously. It wasn't dark to use wandless magic, Dumbledore had done it! It wouldn't cause any harm.

All spells, to a certain degree, were justifiable in some circumstances. It would strengthen her powers and she could use it if she needed to defend herself and Draco from Riddle in the future.

She began reading.

_Wandless magic: __While a wand is required for most forms of (human) magic, some magic can be performed without a wand. __To perform it, one can start either by intense concentration or meditation. Once found, the Wizard or Witch can set free their tamed magic. With constant practice, one can learn on how to consciously control their magic, building inner strength and learning to aim with more precision than before. _

Hermione placed the book on the teacher's desk. She could do it. This wasn't going to make her a bad person, she thought over and over again.

Slowly, her muscles began to relax one by one, and her mind drifted away, although her eyes were fixed on the book.

But the book didn't move.

She let out a shallow sigh. _Concentrate, concentrate, concentrate!_

She didn't know how long she had been in there. At least two hours must have passed, but she hadn't stopped since she had begun reading.

It had taken most of her determination to achieve this feat. She had felt it for a brief moment, a warm source of light radiate from within her. Hermione could feel the intensity from her magic, and for just an instant, the book lifted and floated in mid air before falling over the desk abruptly.

A flash of achievement and pride filled her and it was only then that she realized how tired she was.

She finally let out a yawn. _I will continue tomorrow, _she thought.

Hermione stored her books in her bag and walked out of the room. She looked around, making sure no one caught her after curfew. To her relief, the hallway was deserted. She walked stealthily, feeling her exhausted muscles ache and her tired mind drift away.

Another yawn.

The halls were silent and dark, it being the very pit of night. Silvery blue moonlight sifted through the few windows.

As she rounded a corner, she felt a cold hand grab her by the wrist roughly. Hermione didn't have enough time to put up any resistance because the person who had grabbed her arm had seized her with excessive force, dragging her into an empty room.

Taking advantage that the person had loosened his grip to lock the door, Hermione pulled out her wand with her free hand and murmured, "_Stupefy_."

An alien force pushed him away from her, freeing her arm. The figure fell on his back on the floor and Hermione squinted as she caught glimpse of platinum hair glistening under the moonlight that filtered through the windows.

"Fuck you, Granger," he cursed under his breath, groaning as he tried to pull himself up.

"Are you trying to scare me to death?" she spat, gritting her teeth. For a moment she could've sworn it was Riddle who had grabbed her and felt the need to hit Draco for the fright she had just experienced.

Draco rubbed his back.

"At least I didn't attack you."

"I needed to defend myself." Hermione crossed her arms, biting her bottom lip. "So what, you're talking to me now?"

"What?" he asked, a confused expression filtering over his face.

"You have been ignoring me ever since Slughorn's party," she said a little resentfully. "Whenever I try to talk to you, you just leave. Have you ever stopped to think of how I have felt? Of course you haven't!" she yelled angrily, "you and your selfish attitude! You are not the pampered kid you used to be, Draco. You're a man now who is able to take his own choices. We're stranded here and you decide to ignore me? The only person you know and can rely on! That's a bit childish, don't you think?"

Draco quirked an eyebrow and noted Hermione's heavy breathing, probably from the breath she had been holding in as she practically yelled at him.

Now how was he supposed to respond to that? It had never been easy to express his thoughts and she had called him selfish! He was just here to prevent her from getting hurt by Riddle and he really didn't see what was so selfish about that.

"You can think whatever you want," He said monotonously."But I just came here to warn you."

"Warn me about what?"

"About Riddle…" he began.

Hermione let out a demented laugh. "If you're going to tell me he's evil, trust me, I think I've already figured it out," she said sarcastically.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I really don't see the need to use sarcasm. This is quite serious."

Hermione crossed her arms firmly across her chest. "I'm listening," she said nonchalantly.

"Yesterday, I overheard Riddle talking with his group. It seemed like he was warning them."

"Warning?" she asked, forgetting all about her anger and letting her curiosity win.

"Riddle's attraction to you has grown. He was threatening his group. He said that if they touch you, they will pay the consequences. It sounded as if he's developed some sort of sick obsession, the need to watch you closely." He seemed disgusted with the idea.

Hermione felt nauseous. _An obsession? _

"Is that it?" she asked uncaringly, hiding her fear and letting her anger resurface.

Draco stared at her incredulously. "Haven't you been listening, granger? You need to stay as far from him as you can!"

"What? Who was it who said we needed to gain his trust?" she quipped.

"Alright, well things have changed," he responded just as quick. "Now just listen to me and stay…away…from…him!"

"No! You said that I stick with my plan and you with yours, right? Well I have been…um…practicing wandless magic."

"_What? _Wandless Magic_?" _Draco's eyes widened. "But…how? Why?"

Hermione chewed at her lip and debated whether to tell Draco about the books she had been reading. After a minute of arguing with herself, the selfless part of her won the internal struggle.

She pulled out the books from her bag and decided it would be better if he had a look for himself. When he took a better look at the covers, his eyes almost fell out of their sockets.

"These are Dark books, how…why…?"

Before he could misjudge her she hastened to say, "I'm not trying to learn Dark Magic, if that's what you're thinking. There is a great amount of information about strengthening your magic and being able to perform wandless magic to conjure various spells, that's what I want to do. I need to know that if by some cause we don't have our wands, I can defend us from Riddle!" Her eyes began glistening with hope.

Draco sighed. "Listen to me, Granger. Before you can say anything else, I need you to listen. It takes years to master wandless magic. Many great wizards cannot perform it. What I'm trying to tell you is that it's not as easy as it sounds and I don't want you to take a false hope."

Hermione bristled, her pride wounded.

"And besides where did you get such books?"

She blushed. "That's rather none of your business," she exclaimed, aggrieved.

"And you call _me_ childish," he muttered to himself.

"Alright, someone left them next to my bed stuffed in my bag. Satisfied?"

He seemed as if something hard had hit him. "What? And you didn't even question where they came from? You just took them? They could've been cursed!"

"They weren't, I checked them."

"Either way you shouldn't have kept them," he said, his anger mounting.

"Why not?" she asked patiently.

"Because what if it was Riddle who put them in there?" he asked as if she was being ridiculous, which he probably thought she was.

"I've already thought about that, but then what's the worst that could happen? They weren't jinxed, so what's wrong in taking a look at them and use the information to help me? It's not as if I am going to become extremely tempted by the Dark Arts and turn into a Dark Witch." _No, nothing of the sort. _

"Something is wrong," he said quickly. "Supposing that Riddle was the one who sent you the books, it wasn't just pure generosity. He never does something without having a plan under his sleeve."She sniffed but he ignored her, musing to himself.

"Was that everything you wanted to tell me?"

He looked up."Did you even pay any attention to what I told you?"

"Yes."

"Then you'll stay away of Riddle?" he asked hopefully.

"I never said that, I just said I did pay attention to what you said."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You can be rather stubborn, you know that?"She didn't say anything and glared at him through narrow eyes. His shoulders slumped and he drew in a deep breath. She could be rather proud sometimes. "You aren't going to forgive me, are you?"

He glanced at her, her lips were slightly parted, but her expression remained stony above her tightly knotted limbs.

"You shouldn't let Riddle and your friends waiting." She pulled her bag closer to her. "Since you're in such intimate terms now, they might wonder where you've gone."

There was a horrible and billowing silence between them at that moment. He sighed, thinking it was impossible to reason with her if she was still angry with him. He looked at her for one moment, but her face didn't soften. So instead of sticking around where he wasn't wanted, Draco gathered himself and walked very slowly and stiffly toward the door. He wrenched the door open and disappeared through it.

Hermione could've sworn she heard him mutter something under his breath that sounded like '_women'_.

When she entered her Common Room, she almost expected it to be half empty, but was surprised as she saw the Ravenclaws gathered around something posted on one of the walls, but she couldn't see what.

Hermione frowned and walked toward Selene when she spotted her. Everyone was wearing their pajamas, but didn't look tired. In fact, they all looked rather happy.

"What's all this commotion about?" she asked Selene. "Why is everyone up?"

The girl smiled. "Oh, Hermione you're back! I'm trying to figure out, but with this entire crowd it's impossible to see."

At that very moment Robert squeezed his way out of the crowd, his cheeks squeaky red.

"Oi, Hermione!"

"Hi, Robert! So what's all this about?" she asked.

"Well, you're not going to believe it," he said, unable to contain his excitement. "The school Dueling Contest is approaching."

Hermione frowned. "So?"

"So? They're letting us participate!" he exclaimed.

Selene let out a gasp."You're not serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" He tried to put on a straight face but couldn't help his lips twitching upward.

"What's so special about that?" Hermione asked clueless.

Robert turned to face her, his expression aghast. Selene on the other hand, smiled warmly. "It's the first Dueling Competition where they're letting students who aren't in seventh year compete. It's held once a year, during the month of October," she explained.

Robert nodded excitedly. "It's going to be held on the first of October. There are more rules for us, but who cares? We're getting to compete!"

Selene smiled. "Will you compete, Hermione?"

Hermione looked apprehensive. "I don't know, probably," she shrugged.

"You have to! I know I will."

"But what about the rules?" she asked apprehensively.

"Who cares? I'm sure they'll tell us tomorrow," Robert said, looking anxious.

Hermione only prayed everything wouldn't end badly.

O

Draco didn't know whether to be happy or sad about this. A dueling contest, what kind of foolish idea was that?

"So, Laurent," Nott said, and Draco turned his head to him lazily. "Are you entering?"

"Maybe." He shrugged offhandedly.

"_Surely_ you're not entering…"

"And why would that be, Mulciber?" he asked uncaring.

"Because it's your first year at Hogwarts, of course. You haven't even been in here for longer than two weeks," the boy responded.

"Yeah and you don't even know the rules," Nott barked in.

Draco snorted. _"_As far as I'm concerned, neither of you have been in a dueling club before. Otherwise, you wouldn't be in doubt of your abilities."

"Who said we doubted our abilities?"

"You hinted it just a minute ago when you came asking if I was entering or not," Draco answered flippantly, "you fear I'll beat you, are you not?"

Mulciber and Nott laughed. "Why would we? We barely met you two weeks ago and it's enough to know you are nothing but a flimsy fool. I don't even know what it is with Tom acting all good to you all of a sudden. He doesn't even know you well enough."

Draco smiled. "You'd be surprised, Nott, very surprised."

O

Tom Riddle sat quietly in a black armchair in the Slytherin Common Room, musing quietly to himself.

He moved his fingers swiftly and smiled as he saw one of his books floating in mid air. He lowered his hand slowly and watched as the book placed itself gently on the very top of his stack of other books.

The Slytherin Common Room was abnormally crowded that night and everyone was discussing the approaching Dueling Contest. Tom, unlike everyone else, just remained in his chair, waiting for all the commotion to die away. Although his eyes remained glued to the green flames sizzling in the fire place, his stomach was tickling in anxiety to open the book that was lying on the table before him.

He hadn't opened it since Ivy had given it to him a couple of hours ago. He wasn't sure why he was so excited anyway. It wasn't as if it was going to help him become the greatest wizard of all time. No, he already other plans to conquer that course of action. But this…this was different.

Ever since he had come across the term '_Salazar Slytherin's darkest and most infamous secret' _it had somehow imprinted itself across his mind, branding itself to his consciousness. It wasn't that important, but he felt the need to know what it had referred to. After all, one of his goals was to be knowledgeable of his heritage.

But now, he didn't want to open it. For some reason, he had the uneasy feeling that the information he was about to require would hold dire consequences. After all, he was the descendant of Salazar Slytherin; Slytherin's blood ran through his veins. so what if the aforementioned secret had something to do with him as well?

Tom looked around to make sure no one was watching him. No, they were all too busy talking about dueling. He even caught Laurent discussing it with Nott, although Laurent seemed rather annoyed with something. Riddle rolled his eyes. Whatever they were discussing it surely wasn't as important as this.

He sighed and propped the book open in his lap. He flipped through a few pages and felt his breath catch in his throat as he read.

'_Salazar Slytherin's most infamous secret'._

O

_Hermione was crouched in the grass. Silent tears were rolling down her face, the liquid droplets reflecting the little light that was left in the night. They appeared to be crystalline. It seemed to excite him._

"_Don't cry, proud lioness." Riddle crouched next to her and with his thumb he wiped away a diamond tear._

_Her breath hitched. _

"_He doesn't love you, he doesn't care for you, not like I do, love," Riddle muttered softly. "A friend does not abandon when you need them most. You aren't weak, my love, never think you are… you do not need him. You are a powerful witch; clever…independent." He held her hand softly and brushed his lips against her skin, making her shiver. _

_Her__ heart sped up as he blew lightly into her ear, making her lower her guard and letting her muscles relax. _

"_You do not need him," He repeated, only now his voice was more __distant and whispered, quite like smoke blowing down a long, dark tunnel. _

"_I don't?" she murmured, her voice dreamy and confused. She didn't need Malfoy, did she? He hadn't supported her…he wasn't her friend, but he had saved her life. But he was still a Slytherin, sly and selfish. Thoughts continued reeling in her mind, confusing her even more. _

_Riddle took a strand of her hair and twirled it around his finger, then caressed her cheek carefully. It was as though he felt if made an abrupt movement, he would hurt her. _

"_What would make you think you need someone that makes you suffer? He isn't worth it, princess." He sounded like an angel and all she wanted to do was crumble in his arms. "You are strong and he isn't. You don't need someone like him. You shouldn't let your magic squander away because of unworthy people. You shouldn't waste it on the weak, love."_

_Riddle wrapped his arms around her slim figure, keeping her safe. _

"_We could be great together, you know," he whispered calmly after a moment of silence. His voice was persuasive but not pushy or desperate like others. It was balanced, so perfectly calculated. "I could teach you all sort of great things, things you or your friends together could've never dreamed about. Together, you and I could rule."_

_Together._

_Together. _

Together_._

Hermione scrambled awake, gasping for breath.

O

_A/N: Hey so what did you think? So Ivy finally does something worth mentioning haha, I actually don't like her and I think she's sort of naïve for falling into Riddle's tricks, but oh well, who can resist his charms, right? _

_If you have any doubt, tell me and I'd be happy to reply when I have the time :) I still have a lot of reviews to reply hehe. So Hermione's dreams are back, what do they mean? You'll have to keep reading to find out. _

_So I included a bit of Draco in here. So he was actually having an internal battle whether he should tell Hermione about what he heard or not. Eventually he decided to tell her, but she's still mad. Good thing she didn't send bird after him this time, huh? Will they make up soon? What do you think guys? _

_So Riddle finally got his hands on the book he wanted, but what does it contain? Well you'll have to keep reading to find out haha, kidding. Actually I think you'll find out next chapter. I was thinking in putting it all on this chapter but then I realized I wanted you to suffer a bit more haha, yeah I'm bad, oh well. But you can write your guesses on reviews. Next chapter maybe I'll even say which one of you got closer to the real answer haha. It doesn't matter. _

_So I'll stop writing now if you want, I just wanted to tell you that I really appreciate your reviews and that you took time to tell me what you think of this story so far. There really isn't anything more that makes me happier than getting reviews. After all, reviews are the only payment us writers receive after such hard work. _

_Hope to hear from you soon guys. I love you all. _


	9. Death is a fearful thing

_A/N: Hey, I'm not dead, and I certainly haven't vanished from earth. I've just been having a rough time, with school and then with my personal life. But now I'm on vacation and it's almost Christmas…yeah be excited! So I could finally get my hands on the keyboard and finish this chapter. I'm sorry for making you wait, but I figured passing my exams were more important than writing at such moment. _

_As usual I have to thank everyone who reads this story and reviews it._

_Edward-is-sexier-than-Mike__, __Sachita__, __smileylol__, __m0nt__, __aringle42__, __Lost O'Fallon Girl__, __Midnight Shard__, __AlwaysthereforTaraxx__, Themagicinme, __Risottonocheese__, literature-angel, __Trelaney__, KITCATS, __xNileyJemiFan__, __HarryMaximumSamwise__, __jagpaw__, __tablekorner__._

_I know I haven't responded to most of you, and I'm sorry but I can't find the time to do so. So I'm going to answer some of your questions through here. _

_Will Myrtle appear again in this story? _

_Yes she certainly will._

_Why does Hermione appear so weak?_

_Well I've always seen her as a strong person but at the same time rather vulnerable. I figured, if everyone else died. Her moral support disappear, well she'd be devastated. She's still smart, and strong, but sometimes people just can't keep it together, sometimes it is all too much. Hermione's fighting but at the same time she needs her friends, she needs some reassurance that everything would be alright. I thought I could portray how much Hermione had bottled up until such point where she just couldn't help but crumble, like in first chapter. _

_Why does time travel seems to be having a stronger effect on Draco than on Hermione? _

_It hasn't. He was been affected physically and mentally, but Hermione has been affected in more ways than him. You'll find out later on. _

_What's Salazar's secret and what does it say on Riddle's book?_

_You'll find out in this chapter. _

_And I'm not saying anything about Hermione's vision/dream thing. _

_Thank you to my beta Pooja, she really is my guardian angel. _

_Sorry for this long A/N, just wanted to answer some of your questions so you know that I'm reading your reviews :). If you have more questions, feel free to ask. Now read on…_

oOo

Tom sat quietly in a far corner of the library, musing silently to himself.

He drummed his long, slender fingers along the tabletop in an irritated manner, his deep, grey eyes threatening to give up soon and succumb to the obscurity of a deep dream, even if it was half past 5:00 in the evening. He hadn't been able to sleep very well lately and Avery had just appeared before him just to annoy the hell out of him, as per usual. He hadn't been able to read anything, at least not in front of Avery, that is.

His hand brushed against the book Ivy had given him. Tom looked around imperiously. Mrs. Potts stared at him through her old-fashioned spectacles, her forehead creased. She was probably wondering what his deal was, since he had already been sitting there for an eternity. Instead, the corners of his mouth twisted upwards and his icy grey eyes softened. The old lady smiled almost mechanically and blushed as she returned to her reading. Tom snickered quietly.

After making sure there was no unwanted presence in his vicinity, he grabbed the book and cradled it in his lap, opening it to where he had marked it last night. He leaned over the book and began reading.

_Salazar Slytherin, one of the four celebrated Founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was also one of the first recorded Parselmouths in history, an accomplished Legilimens, and a notorious champion of pureblood supremacy. Slytherin remains notorious in modern wizarding history for his alliance with Merlinus Ambrosius, legendary sorcerer and founder of the Order of Merlin. _

_Salazar's account, which is recorded in its entirety in his famous Inverse Historie of the Magickal Worlde (see chapter twelve), deals with his acquaintance with Merlinus at the end of the latter's career as special magical regent to the kings of Europe. Having grown disenchanted with the corruption of the magical world ,as it became 'infected' by influences from the growing non-magical kingdoms, Merlinus announced his plan to 'quit the earthly realm'. These predictions __have been the source of many plots and conspiracies in the centuries since, usually led by those of a revolutionary bent who believe that the return of Merlinus would facilitate their plans to overcome and subjugate the non-magical world via politics or outright war and domination. _

_However, there is something that historians have remained completely oblivious to and that is 'Salazar's most infamous secret'. Although it is said Salazar and Merlinus created several plots against the impure race and how to stop them from infiltrating their way into the pure race of wizardkind, there was a disagreement between the pair, since Salazar did not wish to share the glory with anyone but himself and confronted his partner in a duel. _

_One legend states that Merlinus, in a fit of rage, cast a curse upon Salazar. Said curse is known as 'Vita Merlini', rumored to have been invented by Merlin himself at the beginning of medieval age. __It remains to be one of the most mysterious Dark curses known to wizardkind today. Although its effects are mostly unknown, one can only speculate about its possible consequences._

_Geoffrey __Níðhöggr, a researcher and historian of ancient curses, has attempted to find some proof that such a curse actually existed. Níðhöggr has concluded a positive in his research, having studied Salazar's premature and inexplicable death as well as other victims who suffered a similar demise, believing that Merlinus may have cast the curse on several individuals. The effects of the curse are recorded to be slow. It can even take years before signs of symptoms begin to appear in the victim's system. _

_Apparently, as the curse gains power, the physical strength of the victim is said to strengthen and then weaken until the victim is exhausted by such strange bursts in their magic, until their eventual premature decease. It is possible that it can also cause instability in the victim's mind._

_Níðhöggr __believes that the Vita Merlini might be hereditary as well: if a victim fathers or gives birth to a child, their offspring will be born with the curse and will therefore suffer from an untimely demise. This has led __Níðhöggr to conclude that all __remaining descendants of Slytherin genetically suffer from the curse. But as his line is largely believed to have died out, there is no concrete evidence to prove such a claim, thus marking the theory as nothing more than a myth._

Tom stopped reading, his mind racing as he considered the implications of what he'd just read.

Salazar Slytherin. _His_ ancestor. Slytherin's blood ran through his veins, so did that make him bearer of the 'Vita Merlini' curse? Did that mean he was now…_contaminated_?

He wrinkled his nose at the concept of his blood being contaminated, but suddenly it all came rushing like a bolt of lightning and made him face the thing he had always been most terrified of.

_Death_.

He had always envisaged it as involving some form of struggle in which he surely could defend himself. But now it seemed almost…inevitable, unavoidable. He suddenly saw it closer, nearing like a dark shadow. Like an enemy.

As he read, he was forced to rethink his views on death and his own mortality. He used to think there could always be something he could do to overcome death. After all, it was only a destination for the weak, not for him.

But now he knew that death was running freely through his system, through his veins, mocking him for his weakness. The idea certainly terrified him now. He feared death above all else. Every wrong he had done or was thinking of doing meant absolutely nothing to him, but the thought of death made him feel…sick. And never once had the fear felt closer than it had now.

oOo

Classes were challenging and they were the only way Hermione could escape from reality for a few hours. Soon, she rocketed to the top of all her classes, thus putting her in league with Tom Riddle, and she knew he didn't like _that_ at all. At first she had tried to go unnoticed. Why would she want to draw attention to herself anyway? But then she realized that working on her duties and paying extra attention in classes allowed her to forget about how Draco was still ignoring her, probably still resentful for the fight the night before…

And then there was Riddle. He hadn't talked to her so far and as much as she hated admitting it, she was scared about what Draco had told her the night before. Did Riddle really have an obsession with her? Was she like the new toy he was not allowed to play with, but still managed to gain his attention? Most terribly, was he not going to stop until he had her?

What did that even mean?

Speaking of Riddle, he seemed to be avoiding her all of a sudden ever since the lake incident. If they accidentally met in one of the many corridors in the castle, Riddle would completely ignore her. He didn't even look her way. It was the same when they were eating in the Great Hall. Riddle never looked over to the Ravenclaw table anymore. In short, he was completely and thoroughly ignoring Hermione.

It didn't put her mind at ease. On the contrary, his impassive behavior was making her nervous. She knew Riddle as she knew Voldemort, and he was a lot of things but certainly not a person who gave up easily. The only reason for his aloofness could be that he was planning something. There couldn't be any other explanation for it, especially when accounting for the fact that the last time he'd spoken to her had been two days ago.

Hermione tried to evade him whenever possible, especially because of what Draco had told her but at the same time she knew that if he really wanted to get to her she wouldn't be able to stop him and that the time would come eventually.

And now, as Hermione was sitting in a corner of a library, she could see him sitting behind some bookshelves. He was holding an old book in his hands, and even if she squinted she still couldn't read the title. She couldn't help but to frown as she watched him scan the book with his piercing grey eyes.

She saw how his mouth grew thin and how his marble forehead creased. For a split moment, she even thought she saw fear reflected in his orbs, but of course that wasn't possible, right? What could he have read to cause that specific reaction? The desire to posses that book grew within Hermione.

"Why's your essay this long?" Robert asked Mina in a rather high pitched voice, bringing Hermione out of her reverie. "I thought we were supposed to write two feet."

Mina didn't even look up as she answered in her composed voice. "We were. But I got kind of carried away because it was so interesting and I felt as if I had left so much out."

Robert stared at his friend incredulously before he responded slowly, "So let me get this straight. You wrote twice as much as we had to because 'it was so interesting and because you left so much out'?" he shook his head and continued, "You're crazy, you know that?"

Mina scowled at him. "Instead of criticizing my work you should finish yours."

"Already have," he answered proudly. "Ain't that right, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded.

"Then what's that you're doing?" She pointed at the large scroll of parchment in his hands.

"Oh, this? It's just my transfiguration essay."

"I can't believe you!" Mina tsked reproachfully. "That one was assigned a week ago."

"So?"

"So? You should've finished it by now. It's due tomorrow," Mina scoffed.

"I know. Some of us actually have important stuff to do apart from studying." Robert shrugged.

"And how you got in Ravenclaw is beyond me."

Hermione stared at them, torn between amusement and melancholy. She remembered having had similar arguments with Ron and only now she realized how much she needed him. She went back to her lecture when someone coughed lightly. They all looked up and she was surprised to see Charles Potter standing before their table. Hermione smiled kindly.

"Er, this is for you, Miss," the small boy said, sheepishly, apparently feeling sort of awkward at Robert's scrutiny.

Hermione took the piece of parchment the boy handed out to her. "Thanks, Charles. It's good to see you again."

The boy smiled. "It's good to see you, too." He stood there awkwardly, and after giving Hermione one last smile, he left.

Robert frowned. "Ya know that little guy?"

Hermione nodded, smiling. After Robert and Mina had returned to their work, she unrolled the piece of paper and read it cautiously.

_Dear Ms. Austen,_

_I would like to have a word with you, if you do not mind. Kindly come along to my office as soon as you receive this note. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Her heart raced. Since she had been back to the castle, she hadn't had time to talk to Dumbledore. She'd seen him in classes regularly, of course, but he treated her just as if she was another student, and now was the first time he had asked her to come to his office. Why? Did he want to talk to her about something related to time-travel or was it just to see how she was doing? Probably both.

Hermione gathered all her things into her bag and after excusing herself, she strode off. As she walked toward the door she had the nagging feeling that Riddle's gaze had been fixed on her as she left.

She proceeded through the corridors, though she stopped as she spotted Draco walking along with Abraxas. She didn't want him to see her, so she had to step hastily behind a statue. Apparently, they were engaged in a conversation because he didn't even seem to repair on her.

"Quit pining,"' Abraxas said, punching his arm.

Draco looked annoyed.

"Don't punch me," he muttered irritably.

Abraxas shrugged. "I can just tell you those girls are just bad news, especially Olive. You shouldn't believe anything she says, and she's just a prude," Abraxas murmured, as he passed the place where Hermione was crouched, hidden.

Draco frowned. "Hornby? I seriously don't hope you believe I may be having an affair with Hornby."

"I hope you're not. I'm gonna ask her to the dance, you know."

"I thought you said she was a prude." Draco quirked an eyebrow.

"I did. That's exactly why I'm going to ask her. You didn't think I was going to spend all my time sitting there drinking punch, did you? She's just a night one stand."

"You're repugnant," Draco seethed.

"What? Don't tell me you haven't thought about that yet. I've seen you're quite close to the other transfer student, even if you're not anymore. She's rather fine if you ask me, I would fuc…"

"Don't even go there," Draco sneered, his nose wrinkling.

"Why? You want her all to yourself, don't you? Wouldn't blame you, she looks like one feisty girl," Abraxas teased.

"Don't say that about her. She's not like that and I bet she could have you on the floor before you could even pull out your wand." His voice was strained and his words came out venomously.

"I would like to see her try," Abraxas said with a look that crept Hermione out. _Stupid pervert_, she thought. But that was all it took for Draco to snap. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the blond's neck. Although his face remained impassive, his eyes were filled with an emotion Hermione could not quite figure out.

"Did I mention I am highly skilled at ugly hexes? Now if you care about your face, stop thinking repugnant things about her and walk." In his expression, Hermione could see a hint of the old Draco she'd used to know when they were still at school. He was looking at Abraxas as if the boy were something disgusting he had stepped in and couldn't scrape off his shoe.

Abraxas sneered but didn't say anything as they disappeared out of sight. She waited until she was quite sure they had gone and then hurried off again until she reached what ought to be his office as the Transfiguration teacher.

Hermione took a deep breath and knocked once.

"Come in," said Dumbledore's voice.

"Good evening, sir," said Hermione, walking into the professor's office.

"Ah, good evening, Ms. Austen. Sit down," said Dumbledore smiling, gesturing to the empty seat in front of his desk. "I hope you've had an enjoyable first few weeks at school? Pardon if I haven't talked to you lately, I didn't want to draw much attention to you in case it wasn't what you desired."

"I've been good. Thank you, sir," said Hermione, although she had the feeling the professor had been avoiding this conversation for reasons other than what she was currently aware of.

"I'm glad. Tea?"

"Um… yes please." She watched him move around and gratefully accepted the tea, drinking in the bitter taste in which she had gotten used to.

She looked around surreptitiously. The office looked exactly like Professor McGonagall's had it back in her time, except for several delicate silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables that would later on pass onto the Headmaster's office.

"So, Miss Austen," said Dumbledore, in a businesslike voice. "You may be wondering, I am sure, why I have summoned you for this— for want of a better word — unplanned meeting?" Hermione nodded. "Firstly, I would like to know how you are adapting to this, as I am sure, new atmosphere. It seems you are faring quite well, Miss Austen."

"It's been…fine. Thanks, Professor," she said in a rather high-pitched tone. He looked at her over the rim of his cup, probably trying to figure out whether or not she was telling the truth.

"I must say, I admire you. I'm not sure I would have done near as well in your position," The Professor said evenly.

"Thanks," Hermione said, blushing, though she knew he was simply flattering her.

"As I couldn't help noticing, your relationship with Mr. Laurent seems to be far more distant than I remembered. May I take it it's because the different houses you have both been placed in? Or am I simply misjudging things? At my age, it seems to be a current happening."

If it was any possible, she blushed even more.

"Oh no, it's not because of that, sir. There's just a misunderstanding, is all." She was surprised at how her voice wavered.

"I do hope whatever the problem is, it will resolve itself soon." He smiled at her kindly.

"Thank you, sir. Hopefully it will."She didn't know what else to say.

"Simple friendship is probably one of the most valuable things on earth. But excuse my impertinence, for a moment I might have believed there might be some romantic inclinations," he said out of the blue and Hermione could only stare at him for a second. She frowned.

"Draco…? Oh no, sir. He and I are just friends. I don't have any romantic inclinationstowards him—or anyone. He's my friend and nothing more," she said in a flustered rush.

Dumbledore smiled. "I understand."

She nodded and clasped her hands over her lap. She sensed there was more to the conversation than the current status of her relationship with Draco. As if in answer to her thoughts, Dumbledore's face turned grave and he cleared his throat before talking.

"I know you must think me a silly man, asking you for such foolish demands as this, but I believe it would be best for everyone concerned if you didn't. The real reason I have summoned you today is to make sure you are aware of the situation you are in. As you may already know, Miss Austen, time travel is a very delicate thing. Every minute you spend here is dangerous, even if you don't realize it."

"I realize it, sir," she immediately responded.

He stared at her with curiousness and amusement. "Then you must know there are flaws, Miss Austen, flaws in time travel. Many have not yet been fully discovered."

Hermione tried to keep her steady position, though her stomach gave a strange jolt. She opened her mouth but then closed it again, realizing she had nothing to say.

"You see, Ms. Austen, time is the strangest thing, it has been known that spells that were created to transport people to different times have gone awry. Since you have transported to what we call current time or from your perspective, past time, your body from the future time, or your current time, disappears. Were you currently aware of that?"

Hermione felt as if the air left her lungs and she knew what that meant. She nodded shyly. She felt her throat dry when she spoke.

"Sir, let's say I accidentally change things in the past that have a great effect in the future. What would happen to Draco and me?"

He seemed to ponder on the answer. "Miss Austen, by the simplest fact that you are here, it's a change in the future. You no longer belong in the future but in this time period. If you somehow traveled forward, the future won't be the same as you remembered. You have changed it unconsciously since the moment you appeared here, since you met all of the people and objects of this time period. I fear the possibilities of going back are scarce."

She felt something clench at her chest. No more Harry, Ron, her parents, no one…

It was so hard to contain the tears now, but she knew she couldn't lose her composure now. Tears fringed her eyes but she blinked them away. She placed a stray hair behind her ear.

"But sir, if the…spell we used to get here implied something, if it had a purpose, wouldn't we get back once said purpose is fulfilled?"

"Miss Austen, I fear it doesn't work like that," Dumbledore said sadly. "Time travel is not a game, it is a hard science, and one cannot just go back and alter the course of time and then go back to their altered future. Like I said, there are flaws. Flaws that can affect both time line… and the travelers."

Hermione blanched but before she could say anything more, Dumbledore spoke once again.

"I don't know if you remember, but back at the orphanage I mentioned you would be suffering from side effects. Are you following me?"

Hermione nodded for him to go on.

He sighed. "I fear that since your journey to our time, something must have befallen you. Your mind or your consciousness has been affected somehow."

Hermione blinked. "Affected? In which way?" she questioned earnestly.

"Exactly, Miss Austen. In which way? I believe I am just as ignorant of what side effects you may be suffering from as you are. Meanwhile, I want to ask of you just one thing and it is of the utmost importance."

"Y-yes?" Hermione asked.

"If either of you starts showing any sort of unusual symptoms do not hesitate in letting me know, Miss Austen, for the consequences could be disastrous if not known sooner." His sky blue eyes were glistening.

Hermione nodded wordlessly, brushing a stray tear out of the corner of her eyes.

"Also and pardon for me to say, I couldn't help noticing you and Mr. Riddle got off on the wrong foot."

Hermione opened her mouth in surprise.

Dumbledore smiled. "I take it he wasn't the sort of companion for you? It may seem odd that you've managed to stand up to his intellectual levels in such a short time."

Hermione blushed at his praise. "I think he's too self-centered for me, sir."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. I don't mean to rub salt in your wounds, Miss Austen, but Mr. Riddle seems to have taken an odd interest in you."

"Pardon?"

Dumbledore now looked apologetic. "He seems to be watching your every move like a hawk. It's almost as if he has taken to examining you. Quite a peculiar habit I haven't seen from Mr. Riddle thus far."

"I don't really think that's the case, sir. Maybe he's just annoyed someone's managed to match his level," she offered, trying to brush his speculations off.

Dumbledore watched her closely as he took a sip of his tea. They didn't say anything for a while and Hermione wasn't sure if she should just stand up and leave already.

"Was that all you had to tell me, professor?" Dumbledore nodded, still searching for something in her eyes. Hermione stuttered as she stood up acknowledging the professor as he led her out; she turned around and walked slowly.

"Miss Austen," he called and she turned around with a questioning look.

"Where there is dark there is also light. Do not forget that." He winked.

"Um…" Hermione cleared her throat. "Of course, professor. Thank you." She walked through the threshold but he called her one more time.

"And Miss Austen?" This time she turned and watched him from across the door.

"Yes, sir?"

"Tom Riddle isn't horrible," he said in a genuine tone, a familiar twinkle in his piercing blue eyes. The door began to close on its own before she could manage an intelligent answer to this strange statement.

As he watched her go, Dumbledore pondered the things he knew but hadn't told her.

Runic magic was hard to control and dangerous. The consequences of rune casting were always shrouded in mystery. It was entirely possible that the caster's magic, rendered temporarily unstable because of the strength of the runes, would bind itself to another being's magic immediately and the implications that involved such a thing couldn't be convenient for Hermione or Draco at all.

Dumbledore feared the other possible outcome: magical weakness and mental destabilization.

The professor sighed, hoping neither one of his assumptions were true. If so the consequences could be truly disastrous.

oOo

When she reached the Ravenclaw common room, Hermione ducked around the edge of the room, avoiding the eyes of those gathered there, altogether. Many sat laughing with their friends, listening to music, discussing homework, snogging on the couch. She ducked up the stairs and into the sleeping chamber, which was dark and quiet. Neither Mina nor Selene were there. They usually brought some reassurance that all of this was survivable, even if they had no clue whatsoever of what Hermione was going through. She needed some of that reassurance now, or at least someone to notice her misery and validate it. But then, she didn't want anyone to notice it. She didn't want to worry anyone or become too attached.

She sighed deeply to herself in the empty room.

Hermione washed up in the little bathroom, and then sat on her bed, looking out into the night. Nobby (Selene's owl) watched her from his cage by the window, clicking his beak from time to time, wanting to get outside and find a mouse or two, but Hermione didn't notice him. The rain had finally exhausted itself. The clouds were breaking up, revealing a great silvery moon. Hermione watched it for a long time, not knowing what she was waiting for, not even really knowing she was waiting. In the end, what she was waiting for didn't happen. No one came upstairs. She heard their voices below. She felt utterly lonely and bereft.

It was hard to think she wasn't who she used to be before. She suddenly remembered something her mother had told her long ago:

"_Darling, don't cry." Mrs. Granger held her close and she could feel as if she was a child again. "There is always one way back, and I want you to listen very carefully."Hermione nodded, her watery eyes fixed on her mum's. "Once you lose yourself you have two choices. Find the person you used to be or lose that person completely. Sometimes you just have to step outside of the person you've been and remember the person you were meant to be."_

Suddenly those words came rushing back and they struck her. She didn't have anything now and she didn't like to feel vulnerable. She wanted to be strong just as she used to be, but as much as she tried she always remembered her friends and wished deeply she could be with them now.

Hermione sighed and she knew who she was supposed to be. She was supposed to be strong, for all the weight rested on her shoulders. Draco's too, but it all seemed to be harder for her somehow. She wanted so much to succeed, to create a better future for everyone else. Sometimes the plan sounded perfect and easy: kill Riddle and change the future. But then it sounded absurd and she knew it was harder than it may appear. They weren't murderers after all. Draco had fallen to that path but she knew he wished different, and she knew this 'mission' had different meanings for her than for him.

For her, it meant saving everyone she cared about. For Draco, it meant saving his soul. She didn't judge him, but sometimes she felt prey to such foul moods that all she wanted was to scream, because it all seemed harder to her than it did to him.

Hermione sighed and massaged her temples. The solitude of the room was making her delirious. She stood up and left the room and then the common room, ignoring the looks some were throwing shamelessly at her. She decided she would go to the library. She sat at the same table where Riddle had been earlier, shrinking slowly in her sit.

About thirty minutes later, she had several books spread out over the table and one large scroll of parchment. There was a potions essay she had left unfinished so she thought it'd probably be a good time to finish it; use it as a distraction. God knows she needed one!

People were slowly leaving the library as time wore on, and for a small moment she debated whether she should do the same.

"I knew you'd be here," a voice hissed, but she didn't take any notice and continued writing. Someone pulled out the chair in front of her and sat. "We need to talk."

"There is nothing to talk about, Draco." She pressed down on the quill so hard she punctured a hole in the parchment.

"Yeah, there is," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Then say whatever you need to say," she grumbled.

"I didn't come here to ask for forgiveness, Hermione. I've already done it once and the words are still in place." His voice was cool and it was obvious he was being stubborn on purpose.

"Then what do you need to talk about?"she tried, hoping to get this over with.

"I think Riddle's onto something."

"Riddle's always onto something," she said, almost inductively.

He snorted. "As if I don't know. What I'm saying is that I've noticed he has a book. I saw him trying to read it yesterday before Avery went and interrupted him."

She quirked an eyebrow and looked up to him. "I saw him reading it earlier. He seemed almost…worried about something. Maybe it could be a _normal_ book?"

"I don't think so. It doesn't look like the sort of book one could find in here."

She looked pensive. "Are you sure he didn't have it before?"

"Positive."

She looked at him reluctantly. "Then what are you saying?"

Draco massaged his temples. "I think we need to see what's in that book."

"Why?"she questioned, surprised.

"Because, it's not the first time I've heard him mention something about a book he needed desperately. I have a suspicion he's found it already. And having in mind it's Riddle we're talking about then it's obvious it's something important."

Hermione chewed her lip. She remembered a dream she had had back at the orphanage. Riddle had needed a book. He thought it was important for something, but Hermione didn't know what. What if he had already laid hands on that book? Could it be something harmful or where they just overreacting? She hated when she didn't have an answer for all her questions.

"What should we do, then?" she asked somewhat uneasily.

Draco's forehead creased. "Well, we need to see what the book's about, don't we?"

It took her a few minutes to realize what he was saying. "Are you insinuating we _steal_ it?" she shrilled, her voice filled with incredulousness.

He instantly put a hand over her mouth and looked around. "Shh, keep your voice down, would you!"

She snatched his hand away from her mouth and glared at him. "And how do you plan on stealing it, huh? Taking it while he sleeps? Don't you think he will notice it first thing in the morning, Draco?"

"Who said I was going to be the one to steal it?" he replied haughtily.

She risked a derisive laugh. "What? Do you really expect me to sneak into the Slytherin common room and take it while you and he sleep peacefully? Obviously you're going to be the one to take it! First, it's your idea; second, you're closer to where the book is than I am." If she hadn't been mad at him, she'd probably volunteer to help him.

His eyes closed to slits and his arms crossed. "Fine. I'll do it. But I'm going to read it first."

She snorted. "Oh, that's _real_ mature now."

He smirked. "So…am I forgiven?"

Hermione put her finger on her lips thoughtfully. She remembered how he had stood up for her to Abraxas earlier in the corridor. That was a noble thing to do, she knew, and she couldn't have asked for something better of a Slytherin. "I think you are."

He smiled and she was momentarily taken aback. It was his character to sneer or smirk, but an actual, sincere smile? That was rare.

They talked together for a time more, mostly about the upcoming dueling competition. That morning, on her way to breakfast, Hermione had been unable to proceed due to the large crowd of students congregated in the common room. They had all been milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the staircase. Apparently, the rules for dueling had already been posted and Roberts's excitement was practically contagious.

Now, both she and Draco were working on their essays in silence, although unlike Hermione, his was barely two feet long. Guess some things never changed.

He had barely noticed his palms sweating and his head throbbing. He felt his heart beating rapidly against his chest and he felt as if he was asphyxiating. Draco placed his quill down and frowned, his eyebrows forming a perfect 'V'. What the bloody hell was happening to him!

Draco brought both his hands to his mouth and coughed one more time, hating the feeling of vulnerability.

She heard him cough, but didn't look up at him. Instead she kept immersed in the small, golden and perfect calligraphy. She flipped the pages and wrote something down on her parchment but then heard him cough again. This time she looked up. Hermione covered her mouth with her hands and felt instantly scared; her heart caught in her throat.

Draco's face was covered in blood.

* * *

><p><em>AN: A cliffhanger, haha I'm bad. So 126 reviews! Thank you so much, guys, you are truly the reason why I keep writing. _

_These last few months have been hard times for me, due to different reasons and I even considered for a moment to abandon Fanfiction, I know, I'm barking mad! I can't do that; writing is my life, my escape. And then I thought of you, my reviewers, and those who keep adding this story to favorites and alerts. You really are one of my main motivations to keep writing, and I have to thank you for liking this story. _

_So what did you think of Riddle's secret? or reaction to Salazar's secret? So the boy's cursed, wonder how he will get out of that one :P at first I wasn't sure whether to put such curse, I got the idea in some movies with ancient curses and all, and finally I decided to give it a try. Tell me what you think! _

_Next chapter is the dueling competition! Yay! I'm actually excited, you can write what you want to read on next chapter and I'll see what I can do. _

_Can we reach 150 reviews? Do you think it's possible? Either way, I thank you for taking the time to review. Until next time. _


	10. Arm 'gainst Arm

_Disclaimer: I think everyone knows by now, I do not own Harry Potter, only the plot and the OC's. _

_A/N: After one week of pure torture I finally finished this horrible chapter. It gave me headaches, and I'm not lying. I'm sorry for those who wish to see more of Draco or Tom's insights. Unfortunately, this chapter is more of Hermione's, but on the bright side, in next chapter we will see more of Tom's, Hermione's and Draco's. Draco will have a bigger part in chapter twelve. _

_I'm not really good in writing duels, and maybe that's why this chapter was my nightmare. I still hope you like it, though. _

_I would like to thank my beta, as usual. Thanks for editing this in time, you're amazing. _

_Also thanks to all my readers and reviewers. _

_wolflover1996, macymay201, hateme101, m0nt, andiescandieee, AlwaysthereforTaraxx, aringle42, Chamilia Lutien Tinuviel, HarryMaximumSamwise, Chamilia Lutien Tinuviel, bubz, Trelaney, EpicDarkness, smileylol, jujulicia, SamarKanda, TwinkleMae1991, earth-guide._

_Also I'm sorry for worrying some of you for last chapter's cliffhanger. I certainly not want to kill Draco, especially since he has something important to do in this story. _

_Enjoy. _

* * *

><p>On Wednesday morning, she felt sluggish and prickly as she entered the Great Hall for breakfast. It was a thoroughly glum morning, with a low, bruised sky filling the top portion of the Hall and a fine mist speckling the windows. Selene and Mina were already seated at the end of the Ravenclaw table, Selene blowing on her traditional morning coffee and Mina attacking an orange with a butter knife, sawing through it, peel and all. They didn't appear to be talking much.<p>

Neither Selene nor Mina looked up, and she was glad. She didn't want to engage in conversation as she was too tired to make such an effort, and the mood that morning clearly wasn't helping. She plopped into a seat and began to eat almost methodically, occasionally glancing over the Slytherin table.

It didn't take too long for her to spot Riddle, who was sitting alone in one corner not even touching his food. She would have thought he looked different, paler perhaps. But it didn't really matter how he looked; he was still a murderer, wasn't he?

She glanced away hastily and spotted Draco, sitting right next to Abraxas and Avery. Yesterday, after what happened in the library, Hermione had tried to get him to the Hospital Wing but he hadn't cooperated with her. She still remembered.

"_Are you sure you're alright?" she asked for the umpteenth time. "A nosebleed, Draco, and not just that…you've been having headaches too, and sweating…This isn't normal behavior, Draco, perhaps you should go to the Hospital Wing…"_

"_I'm fine," he growled, annoyed. _

_Hermione pursued her lips. "For how long?"_

"_How long—what?"_

"_How long you've been having these headaches?—and the nosebleed…"she trailed off._

_He shook his head annoyed. "I don't know. I don't keep it in a bloody calendar."_

_He buried his hands in his hair and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he took a deep breath and looked up at her, massaging his temples and trying to calm down. Hermione had her eyebrow raised, but he could see her eyes were filled with concern. _

"_Why?" he asked finally. _

_After a few moments she seemed to realize what he meant. _

"_I think this isn't just happening for any reason, Draco," she said, her voice dropping lower. He quirked a brow. "Remember what Dumbledore said back at the orphanage? Our minds are somehow damaged in some way."_

_She began to tell him about her meeting with Dumbledore, and after she was finished, he stared at her, looking puzzled. _

"_But why isn't it happening to you? The headaches, nosebleed…" _

"_I'm…not sure." She frowned. "Maybe, maybe it has affected us in different ways…"_

"_You don't feel any different…do you?" _

"_Well, no, I don't. Maybe it hasn't affected me physically, but that doesn't mean it hasn't affected me at all. I…" The truth was she didn't have an idea of why all of this happening to Draco and not her. "I don't know…I don't…" She trailed off and chewed on her lip nervously. _

_Draco shook his head. "Then that's just it, right? I'm the one who dies."_

_Hermione looked up, surprised. "No, don't say that. There has to be something we can do to stop all of this." _

"_Like what?" he said accusingly, his harsh tone making her flinch._

"_We could tell Professor Dumbledore, he'll probably know something…"Her tone was optimistic, hopeful._

_His responding laugh was high pitched and sarcastic. "That old man, what would he know?"_

"_Draco," she whispered. "Don't be like that. He told me that if something happened, we must tell him."_

"_No. Not yet."_

"_Not yet?" Hermione asked, incredulously. "Then when? Draco, if we let this pass, something may go wrong."_

"_Don't you get it? We're already doomed. What's he going to do? The damage is done, Hermione," he said. There was a note of resignation in his voice, something that she didn't like at all._

Hermione sighed. She only hoped nothing bad would happen to Draco or to her. She had dragged him into this and if something happened to him, or if he died, it would be her fault. And she didn't know how she would cope without Draco.

oOo

As the leaves in the Forbidden Forest began to settle into the browns and yellows of autumn, the dueling competition was nearing. Hermione had been going to the Room of Requirement every night after dinner to practice her wandless magic. She had tried with all her might to make several of the objects that the room provided hover in the air or sometimes she even tried to cast some spells on her books. At first, she kept having the same problems. The books and quills kept losing heart in mid air and dropping like stones onto the floor. But as time wore on, she had gained practice and had managed to shoot some spells and jinxes at a human-sized prototype. At her umpteenth try, the model exploded into million pieces and disintegrated as it touched ground.

On the other hand, Draco hadn't got any luck in nicking the book from Riddle's trunk. Apparently, even if he wasn't carrying it his bag or not, all of his belongings were left in his safely guarded trunk that was protected by an extensive locking charm. The evidence was clear; the book held some importance to him. The only good thing going for him these days was the fact that she and Draco spent almost all their free time in the library, or under the same tree she had used to sit with Ron and Harry. It was nice, they mostly discussed Riddle but they also talked about different things, like the upcoming Hogsmeade trip that was nearing.

She also spent time with Selene, Mina, and Robert. Robert, ever the replica of Ron, had become jealous of her spending so much time with Draco and mainly because he was a Slytherin. So at nights, she stayed in the common room playing Exploding Snap with him, with Selene and Mina watching. She also couldn't help noticing Mina acting a bit hostile when she was with Robert.

She thought she had made things clear to Mina. Make sure she didn't get the wrong impression. Robert however, Hermione feared, seemed to have grown certain affection for Hermione and not necessarily friendly like. She almost wished Mina wouldn't notice it.

Between all her worries, time seemed to pass even faster to Hermione so that one morning she woke up startled by such commotion downstairs that she realized that the dueling competition had finally arrived. She had breakfast as usual, classes had been suspended that day, and in the afternoon the Great Hall began to fill up slowly, until there were about enough people around the platform to form a military campaign.

"So, Hermione," Selene said, approaching her with Robert and Mina in tow. "Eager to duel anyone specifically?"

Hermione shrugged. "Not really. I guess whoever I'm chosen to duel with. I'm sure I won't disappoint."

This was a bit of an understatement. Hermione's magical talent had transformed into a whole other beast in the months that she had spent attempting to escape from the Death Eaters. Offensive magic had started to come as easily to her as a simple _Expelliarmus_. And she had been practicing Wandless magic these last few weeks, so she guessed she had a great amount of possibilities to duel anyone, except perhaps…Riddle. She feared he might use an Unforgivable Curse on her, but he wouldn't dare in front of the professors, right?

Robert grinned, and his keen green eyes fixed upon a Slytherin boy on the other side of the platform. "Oh, I hope I'm dueling Nathaniel. He keeps levitating dead frogs onto my desk when we're in Potions."

Mina laughed.

Hermione's nose wrinkled in disgust. "And who do you want to duel with, Mina?"

"Not sure. Anyone I guess," she responded.

Before they could say anything further, some of the professors in charge appeared. Dippet took out his wand, a simple blackthorn rod, and flicked it. The doors of the Great Hall slammed shut, the noise resounding powerfully off the curved stone walls. Everyone instantly fell as silent as if they had been charmed to do so.

"The Dueling Competition has finally arrived. As you may have already know, the rules were posted in each of your Houses common rooms, however, if by any chance some of you may have overlooked them, I shall remind you then, and pardon to those who already know them.

When you are called, you shall proceed towards the platform and on a count of three you will began to duel. There will be different rounds in which there will only be one winner; you will advance to different rounds until there is only one finalist of each house and finally there will be only one winner.

The rules, as you may logically know, ban the use of dark curses. One can use advanced spells as long as it does not cause painful physical damage to the other contestant. If one of the duelists is too hurt to proceed, they can choose to forfeit and, therefore, will be impeded to advance to next round. A round is considered finished once one of the duelists is: unarmed, gravelly physically hurt, or unconscious. As I guess that is all, Albus you may do the honors."

Albus Dumbledore smiled and took a step forward, his eyes glistening significantly. "We shall start with round one. Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. Harfang Longbottom vs. Selene Stuttgart. "

Selene took a deep breath as she climbed up onto the platform.

"Go Selene! Knock him unconscious, they can always have another Gryffindor beater anyway!" Robert was shouting encouragingly.

"Robert!" Mina shrilled.

"Mr. Brandon! Be quiet, if you please," Dippet shushed him.

Selene and Harfang bowed to each other slowly.

"He looks nervous," Hermione commented, noticing that Harfang's wand hand was shaking.

"I would too, if I was dueling Selene,' Robert commented.

They quiet down as Selene and Harfang began dueling. Now Hermione could see why he was afraid to duel Selene.

"Ouch!" Robert winced, as Selene sent a stinging hex Harfang's way.

"Oh no, don't tell me he's going to forfeit already!"Mina said distastefully as they watched Harfang, who was clutching at his eye which was hit by the stinging hex. "What a coward!"

Hermione laughed as she saw Selene's look of pure disappointment. They saw as Harfang was led away of the Great Hall.

"Well done," Hermione said as Selene came to join them.

"Although you didn't give us much of a show," Robert said in mock disappointment. Selene smiled and shrugged. "Ah well, I wonder who's next."

"Round two," Dumbledore announced. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Winston Patil vs. Antonin Dolohov."

Dolohov went on to win the duel after some minutes, and Hermione winced as she saw the deep cuts he had caused Winston. She gulped.

"Round three, Slytherin versus Slytherin. Amias Nott vs. Draco Laurent."

They all backed away as Nott climbed up onto the platform, looking singularly extra-confident. Draco didn't look the least nervous, and he had a cocky grin on his face.

Draco backed down to one end of the platform, looking confident and at ease. Nott stood at the other, taking out his spindly wand from his pocket and raising it slowly, a smirk plastered on his face, which Draco returned easily. Hermione watched with bated breath.

And then, with a wave of Nott's wand, the duel began.

A jet of purple sparks was issued from Nott's wand and was casually transformed by Draco into a shower of golden sparks. Draco gave his first attack, a complicated twist of the wand that issued a blinding ray of blue light. Nott ducked and shot a curse across the ground at Draco, making the sturdy stone crack and char underneath it. Draco thrust his wand downwards at the curse, and it exploded into a shower of brilliantly white snow.

Draco raised his hand and jabbed his wand at the snow. It swelled into a colossal wave of black, fuzzy mist which rolled across the platform towards Nott. Nott deflected the spell and send another. A jet of pale yellow sparks whizzed towards Draco but it missed him by an inch.

Draco kept throwing difficult spells in his opponent's direction and Hermione saw Nott's smirk had vanished and now seemed as if he regretted having been paired with Draco. She smiled at that. Draco whirled his wand and she saw that he was using non-verbal spells. Nott widened his eyes in fear, not sure of what was coming and he waved his wand, but nothing happened. Hermione recognized a failed _Protego_ and shook her head. She cringed as the mist engulfed Nott.

When it cleared, he lay on the ground, seemingly unconscious. It was over now. Draco flashed a cocky grin at Mulciber, whom seemed to be debating whether to cry in anger or not. Hermione wondered why. The audience applauded dryly. Hermione saw Riddle, standing casually against one of the walls, a small, dark smile curving his lips.

She saw two of Nott's friends lifting his unconscious body off the platform and carrying him quickly out of the Great Hall.

The dueling continued with Robert versus the Slytherin boy he was pointing out earlier.

Robert flashed a cocky grin. "About time! Someone's gonna regret levitating frogs now."

Mina sighed patiently. Hermione smiled at him encouragingly, and his eyes lit up. He went on to win the match, and came up to her afterwards.

"I'm versus the winner of this match, so you'll have to duel Rosier and beat him, before we get to meeting each other up there." Mina said.

Robert shrugged.

"Well done, Robert," Hermione said encouragingly. Robert blushed. "That was quite a nicely placed disarming charm there, though I don't think that abscido hex was _really_ necessary,"

Robert laughed. "Well, don't we know out hexes? And yes, it was necessary. If you kept watching dead frogs levitating in front of your nose every day, you would know why."

They kept on dueling. Hermione had won three rounds so far but she didn't want to get so confident, after all she still hadn't dueled Tom.

"Hermione!" Selene screeched excitedly. "You're on the finals!"

Hermione blanched. Robert patted her shoulder encouragingly and Mina's smile vanished. Hermione pulled him away politely and they all became silent as Tom walked up to duel Konstantin, who looked ready to keel over with fear.

This was the last duel of the semi-finals now. Hermione watched intently. She hadn't been paying much attention to the other duels but with Riddle's. She needed to watch him duel to see if she could find his weaknesses and strengths.

But Dumbledore had barely finished saying 'Duel!' before Konstantin was knocked out cold.

Hermione cringed as she saw how some friends took him out of the Great Hall. She continued watching everyone duel. Mina, who wasn't very good in protective charms, had been disarmed by a Hufflepuff. Robert had passed onto the semi-finals, but lost against Vaisey, a sixth year Gryffindor. Selene however passed into the finals as well along with Draco.

"Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. Hermione Austen vs. Tom Riddle."

Her heart gave a jolt and she held the hope she had not heard correctly. Her head whipped around to the platform, where Tom Riddle was standing calmly, his arms crossed loosely and a lazy smile playing on his mouth.

"Are they joking? He's going to kill her!" Robert exclaimed.

Selene folded her hands and cleared her throat smartly."Hermione will be just fine."

"I'm betting fifty galleons on Riddle," someone commented as they passed behind where they were sitting.

Mina scowled at them all, and stood up haughtily. "Don't listen to them, Hermione. You just need to have faith in yourself."

"Yeah, just forget Riddle practically stopped that last guy from having children."

Mina shot him a disapproving look. "You are no help at all, Robert."

Hermione ignored them and took one deep breath. "I'm alright, guys. Don't worry." Hermione shook her head. She had already fought against Lord Voldemort once, though not directly that is.

She felt her legs walk towards the platform unwillingly, every instinct begged her not to, pleaded with her to let anyone besides her do this—but before she could prevent it, she was standing opposite Tom Riddle, his eyes boring into her, and both their wands were up. There was a deathly hush.

She mentally listed what she had seen during his duels. _He's overconfident, has weak defenses, but strong attack._

"On the count to three then. One… two… three! Duel!"

A jet of pale purple issued from Riddle's wand just as a jet of red blasted from Hermione's—they met in midair—and suddenly Hermione's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through it. Her hand seized up around it and suddenly she felt something stir within her, as if the electric charge surging through the wands had entered through her as well. It was so powerful; power was forced in and out their bodies. The only time she had felt something similar was when she and Draco had traveled back in time.

An orange blaze emitted from their entwined wands and Hermione, following the beam with astonished gaze, saw that Tom's long fingers too were gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating. For a split moment she ever saw confusion in his eyes. She was conscious of everyone's stares and she knew that they too didn't know what was happening. Hermione caught a glimpse of Dumbledore, but she saw that he did not seem surprised at all, it was almost as if he had been expecting something like this to happen.

Before she knew it was over, the thread connecting their wands splintered and the magic radiating from her vanished.

Riddle raised his wand swiftly and said clearly, _"Tarantallegra."_

Hermione wasn't ready at all. The curse hit her and before she knew what happened her legs started to move on their own accord, dancing like crazy and making her nauseous. Shakily, Hermione managed to wave her wand and cried, _"Finite!"_

The uncontrolled dancing stopped. Hermione stood, breathing hard, and gazed over at Riddle. Smirk still in place, he again brandished his wand and said, _"Incarcerous."_

Instantly thick ropes sprang from his wand's tip and flew towards Hermione. Not wanting to get hit again, she quickly flourished her wand._"Protego!"_

A familiar blue shield protected Hermione and Riddle's ropes uselessly fell on the floor where they disappeared. She narrowed her eyes at him, scanning him suspiciously. Riddle held his wand loosely in his hand and smirked nonchalantly at her, as if nothing had happened before. Hermione huffed at his relaxed posture. He didn't expect any form of counter attack, did he? He knew he would win. Angrily, Hermione released the Protego shield and used the same wand movement to send a spell at Riddle.

_Infenso!_ She flicked her wand. He deflected her hex before it had even gotten halfway to him; he wove his wand through the air, his face betraying no hint of emotion. Grey sparks flickered from his wand tip towards her. Hermione recognized quite a powerful curse and instantly conjured a counterjinx. _Duro_!

The grey sparks solidified into harmless stones and clattered to the ground. Hermione was satisfied as she saw his eyes widening in surprise for a split moment.

Hermione whirled her wand at the stone sparks, and they sprang up into a large marble lion, bounding across the platform towards Riddle. With a jab of his wand, the stone lion erupted into tiny fragments of rock which whizzed towards Hermione.

_Protego! _Hermione cringed as she felt a heavy impact on her shield. Riddle again attacked and she felt his power reverberating through her whole being. He was ripping her shield apart, that infuriating smirk still on his face. Hermione quickly scrambled up from the floor.

_Transeo! _Hermione was quite disappointed with how easily Riddle had warded her attack off. She couldn't dwell on it as suddenly he attacked again. A dangerously crackling curse sizzled towards her. Hermione had no idea what it could be, so she jumped out of the way and avoided it. Riddle sent another curse her way. Hermione gritted her teeth and peered at Riddle. He grinned at her smugly and even had the audacity to give her a mock bow.

_Laevus! _Riddle narrowed his eyes and deflected the spell with one simple wave of his wand. Before he could cast another spell, Hermione whirled her wand and a huge wave of water formed itself. Hermione threw that cocky grin right back at Riddle. The wave of water crashed over him with force. He managed to break most of the water's fury with a hastily erected shield. Still as Hermione's conjured wave disappeared, Riddle was soaking wet. A few strands of his dark hair were plastered to his forehead and Riddle wiped them angrily away. Hermione couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him.

_Abicere! _

Hermione ducked in time and shot another spell. _Caecus! _

The curse spun towards Riddle. Riddle's face finally showed the slightest hint of concentration—his jaw muscles tightened as he reflected the cutting curse with a _Substringo_ jinx, which tied her own curse to a far more powerful one. Hermione didn't even recognize the wand movement, and she flung herself to the floor. She could smell part of her robes burning slightly as the spell rocketed over her.

Leaping back to her feet, she flicked her wand, her hands shaking.

_Defleo!_ A jet of purple fire blasted from her wand. She watched how he slowly waved his wand and sucked the bright light into his wand-tip.

Then the light blasted itself out of his wand again, colored a deep gold. Hermione brought up her wand just in time to create a thick shield. The curse slammed into the shield, knocking Hermione back a couple steps, but she caught herself, disassembled the shield, and aimed her wand over her head at Riddle.

She sent a stinging hex across the dueling area but he ducked out of the way just in time before it hit him. He flourished his wand and a lavender disk flew out, aiming for her head. Hermione conjured a thick shield and the disk vanished in thin air. Waspishly, she whirled her wand before he could send another spell.

_Stupefy! Effervo!_

Riddle warded off the first jet of red light, looking a little amused at such a simple spell, the follow-up spell trailed behind the stunner and was sucked into Riddle's shield as well – and then it exploded, a tiny white pinpoint of light that erupted into bright yellow flames. Tom Riddle's face contorted in fury as he was flung to the ground. And he stood up with a snarl on his mouth.

Tom stopped holding back. He started firing spells so quickly that Hermione barely had time to conjure any shield at all. Her face met the stone floor with a rough thud, and she scrambled back to her feet and waved her wand desperately, sending different hexes across the dueling area.

Riddle warded it off with a flick. It smashed into one of the walls with a colossal bang. Riddle glanced back at it with half a grin on his face, lazily raising his wand to attention once more.

Hermione took in a deep breath.

Her wand danced through the air, sending spells in different directions. _Obruo!_ _Mutatio!_

Riddle was blocking her every move and countering, but neither of them was making much headway. However, he wasn't using the things he was famous for – Unforgivables, illegal curses, Dark Magic. Hermione supposed that it was hindering his ability to duel, or else she surely would have lost by now.

He raised his wand and flicked it. He didn't say the incantation and soon an unknown curse rushed towards Hermione. She had no idea what it could be and quickly raised another Protego shield. In no time Riddle's curse had reached her and cut through her Protego as if it were paper. Hermione barely had a second before the curse would hit her. Quickly she hurled herself out of the way. Riddle's curse sliced her arm. She gasped as she could feel it leaving behind a deep cut in her upper arm. Hermione ended up lying on the floor and instinctively swirled her wand, conjuring another shield.

They were at an impasse. Riddle was frustrated by his inability to use Dark magic; Hermione was clearly outmatched, only barely managing to struggle her way through – but she stood tall and confident, as if nothing had fazed her at all. She placed a stray hair behind her ear and determinedly grabbed her wand with a stronger grip. If he thought she would just give up, he would have to think again.

Another of Riddle's attacks hit her shield and it yielded completely.

_Everte Statum!_

An orange light shot out from Hermione's hand and the spell hit Riddle—widening his eyes and clearly unprepared— so hard he felt as though he had been hit by a saucepan and he was sent backwards until he stumbled on the floor. Growling, he raised his wand, and sent different curses her way. She didn't have time to deflect them all, so when she felt as if something had punched her right on the stomach she landed painfully on the floor and closed her eyes for a moment, clutching she clutched at her abdomen. Before she could stand up her wand jerked itself from her hand.

After that entire struggle, she was defeated with a simple Expelliarmus. _Incredible!_

Riddle scrutinized her even as he twirled her wand in a pale hand.

There was a long pause, and the audience burst into applause. Riddle nodded once to her, his eyes inscrutable, and tossed her wand back at her before turning away and walking back to his Slytherins.

Hermione retrieved her wand from the ground and tucked it into her pocket. As she stepped off the platform, she could feel countless stares on her. She held her head high and walked determinedly, without caring of everyone' scrutiny.

Neither Selene, Mina, nor Robert said anything. She thanked they didn't question her about what had happened at the beginning of the duel, but she guessed it wouldn't take long until they finally did.

She tried to watch what was left of the duel but she immediately remembered that one of Riddle's hexes had cut her arm. Selene seemed to have noticed that as well because she immediately said,

"Hermione, are you okay?" she tried to see the depth of the cut but Hermione pulled her away.

"Yes, it's just a cut I guess." It wasn't as if she was lying, it _was_ a cut. She would just have to go to the Hospital Wing and whoever was in charge would heal it. "I think I'll go to the Hospital Wing."

"Do you want us to accompany you?"Mina asked.

"No that's alright. Just stay with Selene and tell me how she does, alright? I'll just meet you in the common room."

"Alright then. First floor to the right. Madam Curry will heal you in a blink of an eye." Mina smiled.

Hermione frowned and then she remembered she wasn't supposed to know where the Hospital Wing was. She nodded gratefully and turned around, walking away from the Great Hall.

When she reached the Hospital Wing, she saw it was filled with earlier contestants from the Dueling Contest. They had friends surrounding their bedside. Suddenly she saw an elderly woman with hard features walk toward her.

"Why, oh, why am I not surprised? This Hospital Wing will be filled in no time. Dueling contest…" she fumed "What may I ask happened, Miss…"

"Austen," Hermione replied instantly. "I have a cut on my arm, because of the…"

"Dueling Contest," she finished for her tiredly and let out a sigh. "Very well. Have a seat on that bed." She nodded toward the final bed by the window, "And I will have you fixed up in a jiffy."

"Thanks."

Like the Matron had said, her arm was fixed in seconds. As she was about to exit the Hospital Wing, she saw two guys with broad shoulders carrying another limp form. It took her a while to realize it was Draco.

They carried him onto an empty bed and she quickly went to join them.

"What happened?"

The two guys seemed taken aback at first but then one of them answered with a hoarse voice. "Stunned."

"Is the dueling over?"

"Yes. Riddle won, they're just on the award ceremony."

She nodded and waited for them to go. At first they stood awkwardly, perhaps deciding whether to stay or not, in the end they decided not to and left. Hermione sat next to him for a while until Madam Curry finally slowed down and came to attend Draco.

"What happened to this one?" she asked concernedly.

"He's stunned."

"Very well, then. That's not too bad. One got hit with a Furnunculus curse." Madam Curry pulled out her wand and whispered, _"Ennervate_."

Draco opened his eyes. He looked dazed. When he saw Madam Curry and Hermione, he tried to sit up. But Madam Curry put a hand on his shoulder and made him lie still.

"Stay still. I'll be right back."

He turned to Hermione. "Great show you put on back there." he croaked, massaging his head.

She smiled at him and blushed. "Thanks. You too."

He grimaced. "Thanks. I still can't believe that after all that I simply got stunned. It was Riddle, my final pair. The Slytherin winner was going to be one of us and then Nott's group started to distract me sending hexes and moving the platform at my feet. And then I got stunned. Dippet gave them detention of course," he sniggered. "But Riddle sent the stunning curse my way and I couldn't deflect it."

"But, that is so unfair. Didn't anyone offer a rematch? They distracted you, that's not fair." She _was _disappointed, after all.

"Dippet gave them detention. Besides Riddle had sent the curse before they cast the hexes."

Hermione huffed. "He shouldn't have won."

He smiled but then the smile faded as soon as it came. "What happened back there?"

She knew what he meant but before she could speak Madam Curry, who had bustled off to her office, returned holding a small bottle of some blue potion and a goblet.

"You drink this," she said. "It will make you feel better. Any other injuries?" Draco shook his head. "Alright then. Drink this and you'll be free to go."

He drank and emptied the bottle in one go and then stood up. "Listen, I need to go. But we'll postpone this conversation to later alright?" he sighed tiredly. "And I want you to know that I'm still looking for ways to nick Riddle's book. I think I have a spell in mind, but I need to do it when Riddle's not there."

Hermione nodded. They left the Hospital Wing and soon they went in different directions. Hermione walked slowly in the halls, thinking of what happened to herself. She didn't have an answer, and that frustrated her. It had almost felt as if their wands have been connected, but not just their wands, _they_ too had been connected. It was impossible, she knew that, but she had seen the surprised look on Riddle's face as well. He hadn't expected it, and deep down she knew that he had, somehow, felt the same as she had. As if their magic was…connected in some way. She shook her head waspishly, trying to get rid of such senseless thoughts.

She reached the Ravenclaw common room and knocked once. Suddenly, she heard the musical voice say, "What is something that is dreaded by everyone yet you cannot touch, see, smell, or hear it?"

Hermione sighed.

"Fear," she replied, and the door opened in front of her.

"Hermione, there you are!" Selene greeted warmly as she stepped into the common room. There were only a few people in there—Selene, Mina, Robert, Ivy, and only three more, neither of whom Hermione knew. She plopped into a seat next to Mina. "How's your arm?"

"Better. Madam Curry fixed it quick," Hermione smiled.

"Told you so," said Mina.

Hermione leaned back on the couch, closing her eyes for a few moments and then opened them again. Something caught her eye. In one corner, Ivy was sitting alone, a book cradled in her lap, but she wasn't reading it. In fact, Hermione thought she was only using it as an excuse for having her gaze down. When she looked up for a few seconds, her gaze fell upon Hermione and she saw they were swollen and red, as if she had been crying for hours. Ivy wiped her eyes and looked away hastily. Hermione frowned and debated whether she should ask what's wrong or not. And then she remembered Ivy hated her and didn't want anything to do with her, so she looked away as well.

As she had predicted earlier, the silence would not last too long until they decided to talk about her duel.

"Where on earth did you learn all that?" Robert asked, awed. "You looked like a little firecracker, and did you see Riddle's face? For a moment I thought I saw him scared. Can't blame him, though, you looked scary there. Remind me not to duel you, come to think."

Hermione laughed. "I enjoy reading," she replied honestly. "I can always learn more, though. Maybe that's why."

Robert let out a long, low whistle. "You know a lot, though. Brilliant!"

Hermione looked at him. "You were not that bad either."

Robert smiled back. "Thanks." Suddenly his smile vanished and his expression turned serious. "But, what do you reckon happened back there? At the beginning of your duel? It seemed weird, as if something had connected the two of you."

Hermione, too, had become serious. If only she knew the answer to that. Both Mina and Selene had gone quiet as well, and without looking up, Hermione knew they were staring at her. She could feel it.

"I…don't know," she replied simply; her shoulders slumped. "But I cannot think of something that would form a connection between us two. He's vile and cruel."

All three of them remained quiet, and she felt weird at Robert's scrutiny. She felt like one of those insects beneath a microscope, being examined.

"All right, then." Robert said finally, turning to face Mina accusingly. "At least someone has a clear perception of that Riddle guy."

Mina rolled her eyes. "Oh stop it. My perception of him is really clear, alright?"

_If only you knew…_

Hermione sighed and suddenly she was immersed in her own thoughts. Between her sudden appearance outside the orphanage, the incident by the lake, and the duel, Hermione was afraid that she had made herself far more interesting to Riddle than she could have imagined.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I know some of you expected this chapter to be better and I'm sorry but it really was a nightmare to write. I really tried to include Draco an__d Tom but I think this chapter would better be based on Hermione than the other two. However in next chapters these two boys would certainly have more appearance. _

_Thanks for reviewing; it truly means a lot to me. Happy holidays. _


	11. My pride fell with my fortunes

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing, all rights belong to Mrs. Rowling and I take no credit for anything except the plot and OC's. _

_Happy Valentine's Day! _

_I meant to update yesterday but my beta couldn't send me the edited chapter until today so sorry for tardiness. I've been very busy with school, personal problems and so many other things so I don't want you to think I didn't just write because I'm lazy, which I am, but it wasn't the reason for such late update. _

_I hope you're well and thank you for everyone who adds this story to favorites and alerts but specially to those who take the time to review because you show me that you're actually reading this story and giving me some motivation to keep doing what I do. You're amazing._

_And a special thanks to my beta Pooja, who keeps being her amazing self and gives me great advices in my writing. _

_Enough being said, enjoy._

He knew he ought not to be thinking about her. The girl was beneath him, anyway, but somehow he couldn't help but wonder. After taking her bewildering performance at the dueling contest into account, he had to admit she had piqued his interest.

It wasn't often he encountered an enigma in this dreary place– the people here were wholly by far and large uninteresting, and everything except his own academic pursuits bored him. Yet, here was a girl, a precocious and rather querulous girl, with sheltered emotions behind her eyes and more than a few vicious hexes up her sleeve, and he was... well, he was intrigued. For the first time in a while, he was interested by _someone_ instead of something.

She seemed to think she could somehow match his level. No one ever dared do something so incredulous. Mostly everyone just obeyed everything he said and didn't question him any further. However, Hermione Austen was nothing like anyone else he knew, and for whatever reason that attracted him to her like a magnet. For example, there was no reason she should abhor him. He was every bit the perfect child as ever; though no one at the school really knew him well enough to dislike him.

Her hatred was completely indecipherable.

But it wasn't just that little pesky detail that was bothering him. Frankly, what was bothering him most was what had happened at the dueling contest, that surge of energy that had connected his wand with hers. He had felt odd, as if a strange power had radiated within him, something foreign dwelling in his chest. It had all felt like some sort of magic, powerful magic emanating from them, although it was probably just him; he was a better wizard than her after all.

He hadn't given it much thought as of late, but truly, it had been nagging him since the competition had ended. He knew he hadn't imagined it; he, too, had seen the look on her face, and he knew that she hadn't been expecting it either, whatever it was.

But what could it possibly be? He started mentally listing his encounters with Hermione since he'd found her.

First, he knew the story she had fed him and everyone else around this godforsaken place had just been words fabricated like an intricate web of lies. He knew how to spot liars, how could he not? He was the master of lies himself. The fact that she had seemingly appeared out of thin air was rather suspicious, and Tom hadn't actually _seen _them appear. After all, he _had _been sitting beside his window. He would surely have heard when they arrived.

And then there was the matter of her blatant hatred of him. Frankly, if he was being honest with himself, he had given that particular issue too much thought. If she was lying, it was because she had a good motive, a purpose for her web of lies. And as he was the master of deceit, he could only guess why she'd do that. There were different types of liars; he just had to find out in which category she fit.

She would lie to hold onto something, something which she knew wasn't complete enough to be the whole truth, but enough to mislead everyone around her. And all if it was obviously done intentionally. He just had to know why she would bother lying to someone she didn't even know, unless she did know him somehow and that was something he had to find out. The resentment she held against him had to prove that she somehow knew him.

There simply wasn't another logical explanation.

Then, there was that time where he'd used Legilimency on her. Her memories had been blurry, like she had been struggling to block them. Tom remembered having seen a red-haired boy and another with round spectacles, striking green eyes, and messy jet-black hair. And she had been crying in them, so he knew that the red-haired guy had died.

Riddle tried to remember more, but everything had been so hazy. Though, he couldn't get rid of the uneasy sensation that he somehow knew the place she had been, had potentially been there before. But even as he tried to remember more or try to make more sense of the memories, he couldn't. It was like watching a scene play out from behind dirty glass.

And now, at this very moment, she was sitting directly in front of him. After this class they would all go down to the Great Hall for lunch and he felt sorely tempted to corner her and use Legilimency on her. This wasn't even an isolated incident; he had been sorely tempted on various occasions to do just that, but he had tried once and it hadn't worked. He couldn't help risking her sensing him trying to use Legilimency on her again, not after what had happened at the orphanage.

No, Legilimency definitely wasn't an option. How brash and uncivilized that would be. He could surely do better than that.

Riddle rubbed at an eye with a long finger. A spot of torture surely wouldn't be too terrible? Not if it allowed him to get what he needed... a simple _Crucio_, and then he could Obliviate her afterwards. Less of a last resort than Legilimency, anyway.

Yes, the idea was rather appealing, but it left too much room for error. Especially with a wild card like Austen to deal with – perhaps she, too, had Dark Magic to work with, but was hiding it. She was proficient in non-verbal magic, knew complex hexes and how to block them – Dark Magic definitely seemed like the logical next step.

His knuckles had turned white from how strongly he was gripping his quill and he slowly began forcing himself to relax his muscles, one by one. His eyes had been unfocused for at least the majority of the class and now he realized everyone had already started transfiguring their goblets into birds.

Tom looked around, but he saw that no one had even paid attention to him and his inattentiveness. All eyes were glued to their respective wands and goblets, except for one pair of deep blue eyes. Staring at him like a hawk from one corner, Dumbledore seemed to be attempting to pierce through his soul. Riddle stared back at him without blinking and then finally looked away. He sat up straighter and with a swift move of his wand, his goblet turned into a glorious bird. He smiled and turned to look at Dumbledore with a smug look on his face. His smile broadened as he saw the old man glance away.

He glanced at the hour and saw that the class had almost ended, so he began storing his quills, ink bottles, books, and parchments. When there was nothing left to tidy on the table and Dumbledore had dismissed them all, Tom stood up rigidly and walked out of the transfiguration class, catching Austen's bushy hair out from the corner of his eye. He sighed, wondering why in the world he couldn't stop thinking about her.

It was disgusting.

Admittedly, he was devoting quite a disproportionate amount of his thought process to the Austen girl – far more than he felt should be logical. He had other things that needed time to be planned. Austen's would have to wait. For example, it was imperative to find a swift solution to the issue of the curse.

During his free time, he had been studying the book and it hadn't been until yesterday that he had found something that could possibly help him.

"_The Laveus ring is rumored to be a legendary item that had once belonged to one Thomas Magnus in the beginning of the 13th-century. In popular conception, the ring is thought to possess a magical substance known for its uncanny ability to intensify the magical aura of the one possessing it. Its various uses range from limitless wandless magic to untraceable and powerful curses. _

_It is also believed to be an elixir of life of some sorts, particularly known for its healing abilities. _

_According to legend, Thomas __Magnus__ was said to have passed the magical talisman to his pupil, Albertus__ Aquinas__, shortly before his death circa 1280. Magnus recorded that, through the ring, he witnessed the cure for his son's illness. It is rumored Albertus Aquinas had been victim of a terrible curse cast upon him by a Dark Wizard in the early fifteenth century, and was on his deathbed when his father and mentor gifted him the ring, vanishing any trace of the curse from his body. However, no one saw nor heard anything further from Aquinas, until his death caused by natural circumstances in 1355. _

_The ring is said to have been lost in the mists of time. Some believe that it was recovered by a wizarding king in the seventeenth century, and that it is stored today in the Ministry of Magic, forgotten in the many unnamed vaults of the Department of Mysteries."_

Since he had read the passage, the idea of possessing the ring had imprinted itself in his brain and from then on he had sworn to obtain the ring for his own. It was the only option he had to get rid himself of the horrible curse, though now that he considered it, the idea of strengthening his magic wasn't all that bad either. In fact, it was perfect. Not only he would be free of the chains of his heritage, but he would also be more powerful than anyone else in existence. Surely, his wandless magic would be limitless, his imperius curse stronger and untraceable, the cruciatus curse—his favorite—stronger and more painful, and the killing curse cast without a single flick of his wand. He liked the idea of that.

Just thinking about it sent shivers down his spine, and his stomach churned in anxiousness.

oOo

At lunch, Riddle sat idly at the Slytherin table, taking short sips of his hot tea, not even bothering to look up when Lestrange commented, "It's been wonderful weather, lately."

Instead of responding, Tom made a face at the thin liquid in his cup and placed it back on the table. "Too weak."

"Well, I don't think it's an appropriate way to describe the day, but…"

"The tea, Lestrange," Tom said, irked.

"Oh," Lestrange demurred. "I hadn't even realized you were drinking any."

Tom didn't acknowledge him, and instead he stirred his food with his fork.

"Where's Carter?" Mulciber asked.

"Probably getting ready for Quidditch practice later. I know I wouldn't mind getting a good start against that Gryffindor bludger-head and his cronies…" Malfoy chimed in, a superior smirk plastered on his face.

Nott scoffed. "He's an idiot."

"I don't think his thoroughly whipping you at Quidditch qualifies him for idiocy." Lilt, Nott's girlfriend, didn't as much as glance up from her slim book. She turned a page, impervious to Nott's seething.

"He didn't _whip_ us," Nott said, irked. "It was a very close game-"

"_Last_ year," Lilt pointed out. "Not only did you lose, you're _still_ sore over it."

Nott nearly stood up at that, his eyes blazing. "We lost because-"

"I don't really think Quidditch deserves the importance you're giving it," Lestrange interrupted, wearing a half-smile that seemed rueful, if not a little nervous.

Nott sat back and huffed at his girlfriend. "It wasn't fair, that's all I'm saying. There's no way that filthy muggle scum-"

Tom looked up then simply, and the table fell into a deathly silence. Lilt shut her book and set it face up on the table; Nott appeared more attentive and respectful than he had been the entire lunch.

And no one spoke again until Tom left the Great Hall.

oOo

Hermione tried to ignore Riddle as best as she could. Slughorn had placed them as partners _once again_ and they would probably stay that way for the remainder of the classes for that year. She turned the page as she added some ingredients to her cauldron.

As Tom cut the required Hartwang root into pieces, Hermione stood up and walked over to the storage room. She stood on a stool, examining the shelves. She groped for some jar on the top shelf, keeping a precarious hold on the opposite shelf with her free hand. When she finally found a small bottle labeled _'Heritag Herung'_, she grabbed the bottle and walked out of the storage room.

When she reached her table, Riddle was still cutting the roots with precise movements, not deviating from the measurement by even an inch.

"Slughorn told us to study all about our assigned potions on the books he just gave us and he's going to ask some questions at the end of class," he said without looking up.

"Are you going to read it?"

"No," he responded curtly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, knowing she shouldn't care if he read it or not. "Why?"

"Because I already know everything there is to know about it. It would become tiring having to read it again." Tom shrugged, as he slipped some of the roots he had chopped into the cauldron.

Hermione glared at him, though he didn't seem to have noticed. "Alright then."

She grabbed her book but couldn't concentrate on what it said, and it wasn't as if she _needed_ the information. She already knew all there was to know about the potion, even if Riddle didn't know this.

Riddle. Riddle. Riddle. He didn't seem to be in the mood today. She had to admit; he even looked paler and had dark circles under his eyes. If she really thought about it, he hadn't exactly been in the mood for anything ever since the dueling competition. Not that she was surprised; she would've expected this coming from a mile off. Maybe he'd decided to put aside the politeness and begin showing his true colors? To her, at least.

Hermione leaned back and stared at the other partners working on their potion, feeling tired as she did so. She regretted not having slept well the previous night. It was all the fault of the nightmares of course, though she couldn't quite make out what her dream might have meant. All she remembered was a withered rose and red eyes.

"You seem to be studying most diligently."

She jerked her head and saw Tom eying her disapprovingly. "I already know this stuff."

He looked her over. For some time they looked at each other. Hermione crossed her arms and raised her chin as if challenging him to say something.

"Tell me about the potion," he said simply.

She narrowed her eyes, and then suddenly the book that had been in her hands snapped shut and levitated over at Tom.

"What was that for?"

"You won't have the book when Slughorn asks you," he said with a smirk.

"Well just so you know I happen to know the answers, so I consider this unnecessary."

"If you know the answers, then you won't need the book anyway." Tom shrugged as he played with the book in his hands.

Hermione glared at him and then, without a second thought, she started reciting with perfect enunciation, all she knew about their potion with alarming speed. When she was finished, Tom was eying her with a smile creeping upon his lips.

"I must say, I'm impressed."

"Can I have the book back?" she pressed. Riddle smiled and snapped his fingers; the book levitated, rotated a full circle in the air and then went back to his lap. Hermione looked surveyed the other occupants of the classroom from the corner of her eye, but it didn't seem as if someone was paying them any attention.

_So you think you're so clever with your wandless magic, do you? _she thought._ Well, you're not the only one Tom…_

Hermione smirked and concentrated on the book in his lap. It slowly rose and soared back to her.

She looked up to see Tom staring at her in shock.

"How did you do that? We haven't learned wandless magic yet," he shot, his tone accusing.

"You have your tricks, I have mine," she replied.

Tom stared at her, his eyes calculating. "Like what?"

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"What tricks do you have?" he pressed.

He, she realized, was leaning even closer to her, and she could now get a better glimpse at his eyes. They were a pure, dull grey, but she hadn't ever noticed the small dots of dark blue around the pupil. There were suddenly so many shades of color and a certain depth to his soul—_well, if he even had one. _All its details made a strange and otherworldly beauty, and then she hated him even more. He was so handsome. How could he be so hollow and still look like that? In her time, Voldemort at least had had the decency to look just as his soul no doubt did.

She shook her head in disbelief. "That's really none of your business."

And there it was again. How she had addressed him and how she had looked at him. There had been pure hatred in her eyes and also a great amount of contempt. As if he was something gross she had found under her shoe. The worst of it though, was that glint of pity he could sometimes see when she spoke to him. He didn't like pity, he abhorred it. It had unsympathetic connotations of feelings of superiority or condescension. As if she could ever be superior to him.

"Ah, Ms. Austen, but I think it is, or do you think I have forgotten about the _incident_ at the dueling competition?"

She blanched; she knew what he was talking about, how could she not? She had spent a whole afternoon thinking about just that. She had even come to her own conclusions; just neither one of them seemed to be the correct one.

"I sincerely doubt it is of any importance," she said rather offhandedly.

"I believe it is. You, as well as I, want to find out what it is that happened between us during our duel," Riddle said, his voice light and seemingly normal. But she knew better.

"But that leads us to the same conclusion," Hermione demurred. "I don't know anything and neither do you, so why give it more importance than it actually has?"

Riddle chuckled softly. "Ah, but Hermione. You are a smart witch. Surely you have given the subject much thought?"

"Well, I hate to disappoint, but I haven't." Riddle stared at her for a moment, noting the slight indentation of a frown line between her eyebrows.

"Well then, I guess I was wrong, Hermione," he whispered, his eyes dripping with fake disappointment. "I must say I hoped more of you in this matter. Apparently, I was mistaken."

She felt blood rising to her cheeks and before she knew what was happening, she felt something warm boiling inside of her. Suddenly, Riddle was flung off his chair, slamming into the wall behind him.

Almost by reflex, Hermione stood up and frowned. She hadn't even pulled out a wand. Had she used wandless magic again? This time unintentionally? Either way, Riddle did not seem very happy. She looked around and saw that some of the students had noted what had happened and were now leaning in their chairs to catch a glimpse of Riddle. Slughorn however must've disappeared to the storage room because he was nowhere to be seen.

Tom glared at her and dusted himself off, rubbing his head where it had hit the wall. His nostrils were flaring. Before Hermione could react she was flung high into the air and thrust down onto ground.

Hermione got slowly on her feet again. Her whole body ached and she could feel her left shoulder throbbing. She blinked and looked around her. Hermione could see the other students looking at her with different emotions flickering on their faces: astonishment, awe, disbelief, and in some cases even fear.

And then Slughorn came out from the storage room, his eyes widening in horror.

"Tom m'boy, what happened?" his eyes began moving frantically, eying both Tom and Hermione, and then the rest of his students, but no one knew what to say. Slughorn shook his head as if trying to get rid of a thought and then waved them up.

"Ms. Austen, Mr. Riddle, please just follow me," he said and then he turned to the other students. "Just get back to your potions and wait for my return."

Slughorn walked toward the door and, as Hermione saw no other option, she followed him. Riddle had come to the same conclusion as he too limped after the professor. Slughorn stood waiting for them outside the classroom. When Riddle and Hermione walked out, the door was slammed shut behind them.

Slughorn began to look at them as if waiting for someone to speak, but as neither did as he planned, he focused on Tom, who looked rather contrite. "May I ask what happened?"

Tom looked down, his eyes dipping in fake guilt. "I don't know, sir. I don't think we were even conscious of what we were doing."

Hermione faltered when she heard him use the word '_we_'.

"Tom, m'boy, I can't say that I do not feel disappointed for the way you've behaved. I must say that I really expected more of you." Slughorn tsked disappointedly.

"I am very sorry, professor. I don't know what happened to me. I just think I should make it clear that it was never my intention to harm Hermione." His voice was the perfect representation of repentance and shame.

Hermione nearly rolled her eyes. She couldn't help but admire his acting skills, though. Slughorn was obviously dumb enough to believe the act as his eyes softened a little bit.

"Sir, there's nothing I can say that will excuse what I did. I shouldn't—I never meant to harm anyone. I do hope you believe me," Riddle pleaded again with him, his voice dripping with faux honesty. "I'm sorry."

Hermione could've almost had believed him.

"Sir, I don't know what came over me. I know I cannot justify what happened," she said slowly, trying to imitate Tom's tone.

Tom shifted at her side.

"Very well. Ms. Austen, Mr. Riddle, what you have done today was very wrong. Attacking each other in the classroom, and two of my best students!" Slughorn looked at them uneasily. "But I can see that you regret what you have done. After all, we are all humans, aren't we? We all make mistakes."

"Yes, of course, sir," Riddle muttered, still looking contrite. Hermione gritted her teeth but she too tried to look ashamed herself.

"But I fear I will still have to punish you. 50 points from each your houses, respectively. And you will both be serving detentions with me," Slughorn said, looking flabbergasted at the concept. "And now, both of you, why don't you go to the hospital wing to check on yourselves?"

"Of course, sir," Riddle answered softly.

And before Riddle could stop her, Hermione did the only thing she thought convenient, and walked as far away as she possibly could from him.

oOo

Draco walked slowly around the end of a nearby bookshelf, gathering random books as he walked by.

"I seriously don't know why you need that many books, Draco," Hermione said, trying to keep her voice low enough not to earn a stern look from the librarian.

Draco was rather listlessly scanning the bookshelf, several books dangling from one hand. He seemed not to have heard her. After what seemed like an eternity Draco plunked a pile of books on their usual table and sat down.

"So, you were saying you got detention on Sunday night, right?" he whispered to Hermione, who was bent over her Arithmancy problems.

She looked up and raised an eyebrow waspishly as if the simple reminder annoyed her, which it did. "Yes. Why?"

Draco leaned closer and whispered, "Because it may be the only time where I can finally nick the book."

"What? How?" Hermione asked, her muted voice harsh. She had decided they would have to wait, and had been simultaneously worried and relieved at the prospect. She suddenly felt part guilty she hadn't been thinking much about the book at all.

He looked around surreptitiously, making sure there was no one around who could eavesdrop. When he was sure that no one would, he leaned in even closer. "Have you ever heard of a spell named _Visum-Ineptio_?" Draco asked, relishing the sound of it.

Hermione nodded. "I read about it once."

"_Visum-Ineptio_, or eye fooling, more simply. If you work through the Latin, you can sort of figure it out."

"It helps people see what they think they are going to see," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Draco nodded. Hermione looked pensive for a brief moment and then her eyes lit up with realization as she laid eyes on the books at his side. "Are you planning to swap books?"

Draco nodded again, this time smiling. "That's _exactly_ what I was planning on doing. It's a good thing you're smart."

Hermione blushed softly at his praise but quickly waved it off. "But wouldn't you need a book of approximately the same size? I mean, we can't expect to fool him if the book is smaller and thinner."

"Yes. That's why I'm looking for books that looks alike to the one Riddle has." He looked over at the pile of books. "From what I've observed, Riddle's book is large, thick, black and really old. It also has two gold stripes along the side."

Hermione pursued her lips as her gaze wandered toward the gigantic pile of books Draco had collected. Both Draco and she started to examine each of the books closely, until they both had started another pile; the rejected ones and the possible ones, but neither seemed to fit the characteristics they looked for. After a half hour Hermione sighed annoyed.

"What if it doesn't work?" she asked rather peevishly.

"Well it _should _work," Draco said, unperturbed as he inspected one of the books closely, only to carelessly throw it to the rejected pile and quickly grabbing another one.

"Have you done it before?"

"No."

"Then how are you so sure that it will work? It's not an easy incantation you know. It requires several wand movements." Her brown eyes were flooded in worry. It wasn't as if she didn't trust him, she did. She was just afraid Riddle would catch them in the act and do something to Draco, since he was the one who would be nicking the book.

He narrowed his eyes. "I know, but there's really no reason why it shouldn't work."

"But what if it doesn't?" she pressed.

He looked up at her, one brow raised. "It's going to work, alright? I'll put the book back after we read it, so he won't suspect anything. I thought you would've shown some enthusiasm after I told you. I thought you would be glad we were actually _doing_ something."

"I am," she wheezed. "I just think we're going to need a second plan if the first one doesn't works."

"Well, I think it should work, because Riddle doesn't expect us to steal it, right? So then when he grabs the book, he'll expect to see _his _book, not another one."

Hermione nodded silently. "Yes, you're probably right."

"Probably?" he asked teasingly, raising one eyebrow. She rolled her eyes.

"Won't somebody else notice that Riddle's carrying a different book, though?"

"I don't think so," Draco said confidently. "He's been carrying that thing long enough, or he guards it in his trunk, either way everyone already expects to see him with it. As long as they _expect _to see the book in his hand, the _Visum-ineptio _charm will make sure that _is _what they see. We're the only ones that'll see that it's just a library book."

"Alright," Hermione answered, wondering why she couldn't shake the nasty feeling that was cooling in her belly. Though she sensed it had to do with the fact that Riddle wasn't dumb and sooner or later he would find out what they intended to do.

oOo

Draco ran through the plan in his head. Now that Hermione had informed him about her detention with Riddle Sunday night, he knew his opportunity to nick the book was close and if he let it go, then he might not get another one as good. Somehow he felt silly for giving the book so much importance. It was important, yes, but he sensed there was more to it than just getting the stupid book.

Getting the book meant much more to him than it probably meant to Hermione, as foolish as that sounded.

Maybe it wasn't just the idea of knowing what Riddle was up to, was _really _up to. He didn't care as much as Hermione as to what the book contained. It was the vision of doing something right, something that he wasn't obligated to do. Draco felt as if he needed to prove something to himself, a point, though he just wasn't exactly sure what that point would be yet.

When he had been younger, he had used to watch people walk by, looking happy and refreshed. He had found himself envying the simplicity of their choices. But now, he had a choice. For the first time in his life, he would surpass the limitations others had always set for him.

Because he was so deeply absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't even notice exactly where he was until he was already on the Quidditch pitch. There was no one on the fields, but as he raised his eyes he saw some players practicing. It didn't take him long to notice they were Slytherins, for they were wearing their matching training emerald and silver robes.

The Slytherins seemed to have a graceful, almost eerie playing style that moved them over the pitch like a school of fish. Draco saw how all the players peeled off and regrouped with dancelike precision, although he could see that the lead player called no directions from his broom. The broom, which ought to be the captain, moved freely in the air but what really caught Draco's attention was another player, whose moves were so swift and light it could almost seem like he had been flying ever since he was born.

He was almost better than the captain himself. Draco saw how the player ducked under a Bludger and simultaneously tossed the Quaffle over his shoulder. The ball arced through the air and was deftly caught by a teammate who had flown a perpendicular course directly underneath him. Draco had rarely watched a training session like this. As he stared, he saw how one of the players—the lead player which everyone followed— stopped in mid air and suddenly began to decline into a tailspin until he touched ground.

It took him a few minutes to realize that the figure was walking toward him. When he was close enough Draco saw he was rather tall and muscular.

"Hey," he called out. His forehead creasing as if he were concentrating on some thought.

Draco frowned. "Hi."

"We're practicing, do you mind?"

It took him a while to realize he was asking him to leave. Just as he was thinking of a clever retort he saw another player descending – the one that had moved so gracefully while flying - and walking toward him. In the sunlight he could only make out a slender figure and he realized this time it wasn't a _he_, but a _she_ instead.

She stopped a few feet from him, her broom in one hand and the other on her hip. In the blinding sun, he saw her hair was tied in a high ponytail that swished in the air as she moved. Staring at her profile, Draco could tell she was angry. Her mouth had a tight, pinched look he'd seen many times before. He sensed the anger was directed at him.

She gave his partner a conspiring look and nodded toward the team.

"I'll take care of it if you want," she spoke. "They need your directions."

The captain squeezed his jaw and finally nodded. He threw Draco a dirty look before flying over to his team.

Draco narrowed his eyes, hoping to catch a better glimpse of her and saw that she was sort of attractive, but not quite in the conventional sense. She had long, straight black hair, her nose was just a bit too big, and her eyes were a little too wide set, but what struck him was the color of her pupils. They were a rare violet and as she got closer he noticed her eyes had a touch of light blue around the rims.

Lost in thought, Draco hadn't realized that she had asked him something and by the flustered look on her face, he sensed she had been waiting for his answer for a while.

"Pardon?"

"What are you doing here?" she repeated each of her words slowly as if she were talking to an idiot. One of her eyebrows shot up.

As she waited for his answer, she found herself focusing at someone who was at least 7 inches taller than her own five feet seven. She wasn't used to that, and as she tilted her head to one side, she noticed his angled cheekbones and fair skin. She would've been surprised at how pale he was, but as she was rather pale herself it didn't cause any shock. He had long blonde hair, almost white, and deep grey eyes. Up close he was good-looking—alright, _really_ good-looking—but she suspected he knew it as well.

"Well, I don't know what you think I might be doing, but I think I made it pretty obvious that I'm taking a walk."

She watched him through narrowed eyes. "Listen, Justin, _our_ captain, booked the pitch for the team today to train, so no one can be here unless they have a permit signed by professor Slughorn, which I am sure you don't possess. So if you can move along, I'd be glad."

"I thought he was the one to say that, not you," he objected. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I don't think that's any of your business," she responded coolly.

"Alright, you're right it's not." Draco shrugged. "But I think anyone's free to walk within the castle grounds unless someone forbid us to," he said haughtily.

She made an impatient sound and moved a few steps towards him. "Well, I forbid you to."

He raised an eyebrow. "I meant an authority figure. You know, someone who _actually _has a say in this castle."

"Well, I am in the Slytherin team and we so happen to be on the Quidditch field, so I guess I have the right to tell you the Quidditch pitch is _occupied_," she said sharply, clearly irritated.

Draco couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. "It's not as if you're the captain of the quidditch team. You're just some player like anyone else."

That seemed to be the last straw for her. Her cheeks turned red and her forehead creased. "For your information, Justin was about to tell you just the same, I just spared him from having to deal with someone as stupid as you!"

As much as he wanted to yell at her, he managed to control his temper.

"I had no idea captains had someone that did all the talk for them. Though it seems to be very clever of him to choose someone as talkative and friendly as you are."

She narrowed her eyes. "Listen, we just need to practice and you just seem like a distraction here."

Draco smiled cockily. "My, my. I'm flattered."

"Oh, don't get your hopes up," she said through gritted teeth.

"I wasn't planning on it."

For an awkward moment they both stood still, glaring daggers at one another, until finally she just shook her head as if clearing her head of an unwanted thought.

"You know what," she said, shaking her hands impatiently. "Fine, stay here. I really couldn't care less."

Draco smiled smugly. "Fine."

"_Fine_," she repeated.

After another moment of staring at each other, she hopped on her broom and flew away. Draco watched her go until it was almost too hard to distinguish her among the clusters of emerald and silver. For a few minutes, he just stood there, pondering at what had just occurred.

Who was she, seriously? And why had he not seen her before? She seemed to be in her sixth or seventh year. Either way, he had no doubt she was somewhat psychotic and possibly a little disturbed. Not that he was entirely innocent, of course, but she didn't actually seem like a common girl. Definitely not one he would spend his time with, surely. He had spent most of his life surrounded by neurotic girls, the last thing he needed was another one.

But still, he wondered why he couldn't take his eyes off of her and why she had piqued his interest.

He pursued his lips and made to leave when he realized he didn't know her name.

_A/N: So what did you think? I liked it. _

_So let's discuss Draco and this mystery girl. Could she be his new friend or sultry enemy? Feel free to comment about it. I don't want you guys to hate her just yet, she's important in this story and I've been thinking a lot about her, and I really like her. I think she's got so much potential to grow as a character. And no, I did not forget to put in her name haha, you'll read it next chapter. I'm actually excited to write her scenes with Draco._

_And there's Tom, where am I going with him? So he finally knows a remedy to his problem, he just has to find out how he's going to obtain the ring and who he's going to manipulate in the process. Oh, I'm so excited! I do hope this story is progressing and results appealing to some of you. _

_As for Hermione, I'm not quite sure where I'm going with her but I have some ideas. _

_I have some homework to do so I'll leave you now. It takes weeks to write but just seconds to review so do it for me? Please? _

_Hope you're well, and I'll try to write soon. _


	12. The woman's part

_**Disclaimer:**__ everything belongs to Mrs. Rowling and I take no credit whatsoever except for the plot and OC'S. _

_This chapter is especially dedicated to Cole Riddle, whose comments made me smile so much. Thank you darling and thanks to everyone else, I appreciate all of your comments so much. _

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed and added this story to favorites. Thank you to my beta Pooja. _

_I hope you like this one. _

_oOo_

Hermione was sitting in the library. It was midday now and her Herbology class had just ended. As she hadn't felt very hungry, she had decided to skip lunch in favor of another library session. Herbology had been refreshingly quiet, luckily. At least no one had murmured shamelessly whenever she walked past them. Ever since the dueling competition, people had taken to whispering and craning their necks to catch a glimpse of her whenever she had the misfortune to walk by. It had become sort of annoying, but now she had learned to just ignore them.

"So…Hermione," Robert said, his voice casual.

"Hm?" she mumbled as she flipped through the pages of her book.

"I was just, umm, wondering what you are doing this weekend," he asked. He almost seemed shy.

Hermione looked up, frowning. "I have detention today."

"Oh," he said, looking down. "I was just wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade. With me. I know you haven't visited yet, so I wanted to take you on a tour."

Hermione felt a pang in her chest. "Robert…"

"Maybe some other day," he said, still hopeful.

"I…er, yes," she answered finally, wearily.

Robert let out a nervous giggle. Hermione gave him a quick smile before returning to her book.

* * *

><p>Riddle sat on the floor, leaning back against the shelf full of books behind him. He normally wouldn't assume such an undignified position, but at the moment, he didn't really care. Anyhow, as it was lunch time now, it wasn't very likely for any students to stumble upon him.<p>

He really didn't know why he still tried though. He couldn't seem to find any more information about the Laveus ring in his now uninformative book. He couldn't deny it bothered him, but it wasn't as if he lacked of useful information. Tom knew where the ring probably was. He just hoped to know more about it.

Riddle absentmindedly traced the beginning of a scar that marred his right forearm and ran his fingers along it until they reached his upper arm. The scar was a constant reminder of what he was fighting against: _weakness_.

After a while, he stood up from his brooding position on the floor.

Riddle walked down an aisle as he heard a giggle coming somewhere from among the many library tables. He frowned. Maybe he was not as alone as he had assumed. Peering over the books on the shelf at the table in a corner, he was surprised to see Hermione sitting with one of her idiotic friends. What was his name again? Randal or Ransom, either way he didn't care. The fellow resembled a lapdog, always following Austen wherever she went. And judging by the way he was looking at her now, it was no secret he fancied her. Riddle wrinkled his nose. How disgusting. But even so, he couldn't quite pinpoint the strange sensation whirling in his stomach.

In that moment, Austen leaned on her chair and looked up. Riddle blinked out of his reverie and walked hurriedly out of the library, resuming his earlier thoughts.

Even if he couldn't find any more information on the ring, Riddle would still nick it. There was just no way he could fail. He pretty much knew it was hidden in the ministry vaults, the book had at least confirmed that much. Of course, he wasn't sure whether he would be the one that stole it, who knew? Maybe he would use someone to steal it for him.

As he was walking down the hall, he stopped in his tracks and looked through one of the windows. The day was sunny and everyone was out frolicking uselessly in the gardens. They looked exactly like the insignificant creatures they all were, but something particular caught his attention. A scene was unfolding in the depths of his mind.

And then it came to him. Emotions were a strange thing, and if handled them correctly, he could make a person do anything. After all, they were humans' biggest weakness.

* * *

><p>On Sunday afternoon, Draco wandered around the grounds alone, looking at his watch casually and awaiting the time where he would finally do his job. As he walked by, he saw someone lounging against a tree and it didn't take him even more than a second to realize who it was. The Quidditch girl from the other day was lounging on a blanket, ostensibly working out star charts on sheets of parchment.<p>

He stopped dead and wondered whether he should walk the other way so she wouldn't see him. As he debated on the subject she looked up and caught a glimpse of him.

Her lips twitched upwards. "Enjoying the view?" she asked, as she shielded her eyes from the sunlight.

He smirked. "Actually, the weather's rather nice."

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."

"No, what did you mean?" he pressed, his smirk widening. She stared at him without saying anything and returned to her notes.

Draco burrowed his hands further into his pockets and wondered whether he should say more. Without even realizing what he was doing, his feet were moving on without his permission and the words blurted out before he even had time to think. "I don't think we came out to a very good start the other day."

She looked up. "Yes, but I accept your apologies."

Draco snorted. "Who said I was apologizing? I was just stating-"

"…the obvious," she finished for him. She leaned back against the tree, shuffling maps and charts on her lap, comparing them to a huge book of constellations that lay open on the blanket before her. He stood there awkwardly and caught glimpse of what was written in one of the books. Black and white drawings of planets, each emblazoned with names and illustrations of mythical creatures, circled and spun slowly on the pages, their orbits drawn as red ellipses.

As she made no motion to talk, he cleared his throat. "You shouldn't have kicked me off the pitch on Friday, though."

"You shouldn't have been so hardheaded, either," she retorted without looking up.

"Well, then, I guess it was both our faults, probably more _your_ fault, but I happen to be a very forgiving person."

This time, she did look up, a slight indentation of a frown line forming between her eyebrows. "That's sweet. But don't go wasting your manners on me, really." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she allowed a crooked grin to curl her lip.

He snorted. "Oh, I'll have you know I'm a complete gentleman with the _right_ kind of person."

"Oh really," she whispered as she turned the enormous pages of the constellation book slowly, examining the moving planets and other-worldly astrological symbols. "I won't bet on it."

"Whatever," Draco shrugged, wondering why his feet seemed to be glued in the ground. "I'm Draco Ma-Laurent, by the way."

She didn't respond.

He frowned. "I _said,_ I'm-"

"I heard you," she said, cutting him off and looking up to stare at him. Once again, he was shocked by the radiant violet color in her eyes.

He raised his eyebrows, as he rubbed his chin. "Well, that's interesting,"

"What?"

"Usually when someone introduces themselves, most people would do the same."

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm not most people."

"Yeah I'm sort of figuring that out," he snorted.

He couldn't be sure but he thought he saw her smile for a brief second. "Well then, I guess I'd better go. Continue shuffling maps and charts or whatever you were doing."

She nodded amused. "Yes, you better go. Shuffling maps and charts require great concentration, I'll have you know."

He found himself at a loss for words when he realized she had been making a joke. Draco nodded as he ran his fingers through his hair, and with a last glance, he turned away.

"It's Lynn," he heard her voice calling after him. Draco turned around and saw her glancing up to see him.

"Excuse me?"

"My name's Lynn."

"_Just_ Lynn?"

"Yes."

He looked amused but tried to keep a straight face. "Alright. Well good luck with your maps and charts,_ Just_ Lynn."

And in the blinding sun he caught her smile before walking away.

Lynn stared at him as he disappeared. Just when the sun seemed to be setting and she was already packing her books, she felt a hand take her from behind followed by a silky, hypnotizing voice.

* * *

><p>Draco couldn't help skulking as he moved through the Slytherin common room. The brackish green light, filtered by the lake water above the stained-glass ceilings, filled the room with murky shadows. The fire was a dull red glow in the gigantic fireplace, which was sculpted in marble to resemble an open snake's mouth.<p>

His gaze quickly fell on a group of Slytherins sitting on their usual couch at the other end of the room. He noticed Abraxas, Nott and Mulciber laughing idiotically at some joke someone had made. Draco started to walk toward the dormitories hoping neither of them saw him, when he felt a hand on his arm. He slowly looked down beside him and he swore in his mind as he found Olive Hornby. Right now, she was looking at him expectantly before she said in her pesky, shrill voice,

"Draco, where have you been? I've been waiting for you all day." The girl fluttered her long eyelashes.

"I've been busy. I need to go now," he said, hoping she'd get the message.

"Don't tell me you're going to bed this early. Why don't you join us?" she cooed at him.

"I really don't have time right now, Olive. I'm sure Abraxas can squeeze you up, though." He tried to ignore the disappointed look on Olive's face as he walked away quickly.

The dormitories were empty but he knew he didn't have much time. Just as he was withdrawing his wand from his clothes the door was opened. He turned his head, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. Abraxas was looking at him with a weird expression on his face, Draco couldn't figure out.

"Going to bed early?" he asked.

Draco glanced at his bedside clock. 7:30. Well, he might as well lie so he would get rid of him easier.

He nodded. "I'm not feeling very well. I think I'm coming down with something."

"You look fine to me," Abraxas stated pointedly, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway.

He pretended to be confused. "Really? That's odd. I don't think I've ever felt this bad. I think it might even be contagious."

He narrows his eyes. His pupils contracted to pinpoints, and then return to something resembling normalcy. "Why don't you go to the infirmary, then?"

"Oh, well, I thought that maybe if I slept earlier I might feel better, but now that you mention it, it might be a good idea," Draco said, feeling dumb but without showing it.

Abraxas nodded, but neither of them moved.

"I saw you with Olive down there. Just wanted to know what's been going on."

Draco raised his eyebrows questioningly. "I don't know to what you are referring."

"I just wondered if there was…"

"There's not," he assured Abraxas. Abraxas nodded his head in understanding.

"Alright then," was the only reply.

For a moment they stood uncomfortably in the middle of the dormitories, looking at each other. Finally Abraxas left the room, leaving Draco alone.

Quickly he locked the door and pointed his wand toward Riddle's trunk. He had been studying special locking charms in the library along with Hermione, and apparently it'd only work for the owner of the trunk. But Hermione had discovered a way to hoodwink the spell, it was complicated, advanced magic, but with her help Draco soon learned how to master it to the point where he could open Riddle's trunk without difficulty.

As he had predicted, the spell gave away after several tries, revealing Riddle's things. Clothes, simple objects without any valuable meaning; parchment, ink bottles, books, but the book he was looking for was anywhere to be found. Draco started to get nervous when he realized it wasn't here. He had taken it out; Riddle had taken the book out and it was probably with him in this very moment, in detention.

Hermione pressed her lips into a grim line as she scrubbed one of the tables from the Potions room. She tried not to look over at Tom, who was sort of whispering to himself. She worked in silence while she wondered how Draco was doing. Had he gotten the trunk unlocked? Had he done the charm? Had it worked? Many questions reeled on her mind but she couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong.

She risked a glance at Riddle, who was folding on his sleeves, and she caught glance on a scar on his left arm. Riddle caught her staring and just sneered.

"What are you looking at, Austen?"

Hermione remained undaunted. "That's a weird scar you got there. How did it happen?"

He didn't recognize any hint of muckiness in her voice as he had expected but not sense of concern either, just indifference. He huffed. "That's none of your business."

"You're right, it's not." She turned around but suddenly had to turn her head again. She caught sight of his bag, an old, black, and familiar book protruding from the bag. Her breath caught in her throat. The book—it was here. That meant… Draco wouldn't have the chance to nick it.

She looked at the bag out of the corner of her eye, sitting tantalizingly only a few feet away. She thought she could probably kick it if she wished to. Her heart pounded and she was filled with a horrible, icy certainty that the plan couldn't possibly work. It had been foolhardy to think they could pull such a caper without having a back-up plan. And yet she knew they had to try. She felt vaguely sick with anxiety.

Had Draco already realized the book wasn't in the trunk? The only opportunity he had would be gone the minute detention was over. How would he nick the book with Riddle lying on the bed beside him?

Huffing, Hermione knew she would be the one to nick the book if she didn't want Riddle discovering Draco.

And she knew exactly how she could.

When detention ended, she quickly ran to the Ravenclaw's common room. It was nearer than the Slytherin dungeons so she had a good opportunity to match up to Tom before he arrived. She was nervous, and she never thought she would have an opportunity to use it again. Her trunk sat open in the bottom of the wardrobe. Hermione looked into it idly, then stopped and looked closer. It brought back so many memories it was overwhelming. She had taken it from Harry when he died, and hadn't used it for a long time.

Taking a deep breath she reached into the trunk and withdrew the Invisibility Cloak, unfolding its smooth, heavy length as it came.

How many times had Harry, Ron, and she explored the grounds of Hogwarts safely hidden away under this cloak? So many, it was almost painful to have to use it alone this time. But she had to, even if it was reckless and poorly planned. Two of the things Hermione wouldn't have considered in the future—or past — unlike Ron or Harry.

She slipped the cloak over her head and vanished into thin air. A moment later, the door of the Common Room seemed to open all by itself, rocking slowly on its huge hinges. After a pause, it shut again, carefully and silently.

Running, Hermione headed for the Slytherin dungeons.

* * *

><p>Hermione had only gotten halfway down the corridor when there was a flicker of motion. Mr. Pringle had darted across the passage that intersected the corridor twenty feet ahead. Hermione stopped.<p>

Hermione knew she was invisible, but she couldn't help feeling that she should hunker up against the wall. She sidled into a narrow space between a doorway and a suit of armor, trying to keep her breathing shallow and silent. She peered around the elbow of the suit of armor.

Pringle stepped into the intersection, his gait rather unsteady. He reached into his coat and produced a silver flask. He took a swig, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and then spun the cap back on. When he turned the corner, she exhaled shakily, and composed herself. Then, she continued down the corridor, running lightly, until a few minutes later she caught sight of Riddle, just heading toward the dungeons.

He stood for a long time before the door, and he looked around surreptitiously. For a moment, Hermione felt Riddle could actually see her, but decided against it when he finally turned to the door and said the password. The glowing green snake eye examined Tom for a long moment, as if it, too, knew he was not alone. Then it unlocked the complicated system of bolts and bars that secured the door.

Hermione quickly passed through the entryway next to Riddle, making sure she didn't touch him by accident. She slid through just in time before the door closed.

She had never been in the Slytherin dungeons. Only Harry and Ron had in the passed through sneaking in, in their second year to gain information of the chamber of secrets. She, on the other hand, had ended up putting cat hairs in her polyjuice potion so she hadn't had the chance to enter the Slytherin quarters.

It looked like a place that had been underwater for at least a hundred years.

Riddle walked slowly to the dormitories. Hermione held her breath as she prepared herself for what she was going to find in there. Draco was lying on his bed, his eyes red, and his hands holding his wand. His eyes widened when he saw Tom.

"Hello, Laurent. Still awake, I see," Riddle said, almost pleasantly. Hands clasped behind his back. "We haven't spoken in a while, have we? It has been quite a long time. How are you faring?"

Hermione wondered how she was going to nick the book, or announce her presence to Draco. She also wondered if she had done the right thing by coming here.

Draco nodded in acknowledgment. "Riddle. How was your detention?"

Riddle didn't respond. He placed his bag on his trunk and Hermione noticed him placing a locking spell on it. Draco seemed to notice this too, for he was sweating.

"Laurent, you seem nervous," Riddle murmured.

Draco met his gaze. "I'm not feeling good."

"Why aren't you in the infirmary?" Riddle questioned lightly.

"I don't think is that bad? Perhaps a good sleep would do." Draco shrugged.

Riddle narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly. A good sleep would do, and the boy was still awake, he thought. Tom nodded and locked himself in the bathroom.

Draco sighed and stared at the trunk, wondering how in the world he was going to nick the book now. Hermione, looked around, and when she was sure no one saw her, she took off part of the Invisibility Cloak, revealing only her face.

Draco almost fell of the bed.

"Hermione?" he whispered, making sure Riddle didn't hear them. "What the hell? How…?"

She looked around. "Shhh. I can't explain right now. Riddle's got the book in his bag, I saw it."

"I know. It wasn't here so I just assumed he had it with him," Draco responded.

"I'm going to take it. Just distract Riddle or we'll wait until he falls asleep."

"But he locked it!" Draco hissed

"Well unlock it," Hermione responded waspishly. The door of the bathroom opened and Hermione only had seconds to cover her head again before Riddle walked out in his pajamas.

Draco pretended to be guarding something on his own trunk before he hopped into bed and covered himself. He turned off his night light and closed the curtains.

Hermione huffed. She walked over to Riddle's trunk and watched him as he lay on his bed. He fell asleep almost immediately and Hermione knew she had work to do but she didn't know how the unlocking spells worked. She walked over at Draco's bed and nudged him on the ribs. Before he could yell she grabbed him by the mouth.

"Unlock it," she whispered in his ear.

Draco rubbed his eyes, and stepped out of his bed, tiptoeing he kneeled next to Hermione and muttered a lot of things Hermione had never heard. There was a click and the trunk opened. Hermione prayed silently that Riddle hadn't heard it, but he seemed to be in a profound dream.

"I'll swap it," Hermione mouthed. Before going to sleep, Draco took out a book from his bag, the right size and shape as Riddle's—the same book he had chosen in the library—and gave it to her. Then, he went to sleep.

Hermione drew in a deep breath. She hadn't felt such a rush of adrenaline running through her for a long time. She rummaged through his possessions carefully and took out the book from his bag. Her hand was shaking visibly as she pointed her wand at the book. Then, in a low, singsong voice she spoke.

"Light immortal speeds the eye, for understanding's vanity." She stopped when Riddle stirred on his bed. Making sure he hadn't awakened, she continued. "Discordia, the fool's ally, make expectation's guarantee."

Hermione flicked her wand in three small circles, and then tapped the top of the book with it. There was a popping sound and a very faint ring of light appeared, emanating from the wand's tip. The ring grew, slipping down over the book. It grew fainter until it vanished.

Her breath was the only thing that could be heard in the stillness of the room. Had it worked? The question repeated itself in her mind a thousand times. But she didn't have much time left. She put the fake book in his bag and the real book under her robe. Just as she was about to close the trunk something caught her attention. There were two diaries wrapped in an old white t-shirt. Knowing she really should go, she hesitated, but the diaries seemed to burn in her hands.

Hermione mustered all of her bravery and courage and grabbed the first diary. The one that seemed most worn out. She turned to the first page.

_1936, Wool's Orphanage- December 31__st_

_Today is my birthday. I found this diary in my room earlier today. I'm not stupid. I know those people who run the orphanage gave it to me in hopes of reading what I write or to keep me away from everybody else. They've had 'doctors' look at me, and now they're trying to trick me into writing so they can examine me. _

_The joke is on them then, isn't it? I plan to hide it where they'll never find it, so I am free to write whatever I like. And why would I want to spend time with those brats anyway? I don't need any of them. _

_Everyone in the Orphanage hates and avoids me, like everything around here is my fault. Was it my fault that pug faced Bill fell down and broke his collarbone in two places? Bad example—but I never physically __touched__ him. _

Hermione shivered when she read that. It was strange, reading a 10-year-old's journal, especially since it was _Riddle's. _Even at a young age, he had potent magic and had used it by accident. She flipped forward, skimming some pages. His elegant script was imprinted in her mind as she read endlessly. The words swam across her vision.

_Billy Stubbs was taunting me…__Billy's rabbit was found hanging by the rafters…__The cave…_

_I can talk to snakes…I knew I was special…Professor Dumbledore said that…Magic…Hogwarts…I decided that…followers…dark arts_

And there was a point where the diary ended, and Hermione looked at the other one. It was the one she had given to him. The leather was immaculate and perfect.

_1943, Wool's Orphanage- August 25th_

_Something strange happened today. Two strangers appeared out of thin air outside the orphanage, and I know they're not ordinary. They're wizards. I found the girl's wand and took it. _

_1943, Wool's Orphanage- August 26th_

_It turns out the old man was here and he gave Austen and Laurent a stay in the castle. I still don't know if it's good or not. All I know is I'll have more opportunity to withdraw information from that Austen girl. _

She stopped reading when she noticed Riddle stirring again. She wrapped the diaries in the old t-shirt and placed them back in the trunk. She closed it gently and locked it.

Hermione stood up, rubbing her eyes and suppressing a yawn. Hidden in the Invisibility Cloak, she watched Tom sleep. In his lethargy, he seemed so peaceful, his face resembling that of a child. If she hadn't known who he would become, she would've believed he was just this innocent, charming young man.

Having read his diary left her with thoughts of what would happen if they didn't manage to kill him.

She had always thought everyone was redeemable in some way, but was Tom capable of change? She hadn't even thought about it. How could a person who killed millions of people have any regret? He had absolutely no shred of sympathy for the people around him.

She knew it was selfish to think that, but if he really had a heart…could he be able to find it again? More importantly…

_Would he want to? _

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><p><em>AN: Hoped you liked it. Tell me what you think. _


	13. There is no darkness but ignorance

_**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling, except the plot and the OC's. I make no money out of this, this is only for your entertainment and mine alone. **_

_**A/N: Here it is, finally. It's been so long. I really hope you haven't forgotten about this story and that you keep reading. Trust me, it will get better, and that's a promise. **_

_**I won't even bore you with my long ranting or explanations about this chapter. I really hope you enjoy, and that you'll leave me your comments on this. It really helps me because I can see what you liked and what you didn't, and as a writer that's all one could ask for. **_

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><p>"…<em>if a victim fathers or gives birth to a child, their offspring will be born with the curse and will therefore suffer an untimely demise. This has led <em>_Níðhöggr to conclude that all __remaining descendants of Slytherin genetically suffer from the curse. But as his line is largely believed to have died out, there is no concrete evidence to prove such a claim, thus marking the theory as nothing more than a myth."_

Draco sighed annoyed. "Are you done yet? Because I'm sort of growing a beard here."

It was late in the afternoon and they had been sitting there for at least two hours. He was dead tired and he was already feeling his legs cramping.

Hermione shrugged him off. She looked disgruntled. "What do you think about it?"

Draco shrugged. "That it's possible Riddle has this curse."

"But then… do you mean…." said Hermione slowly, and Draco could tell that she was trying to keep any trace of skepticism out of her voice, "that you believe this disease—this curse—actually exists?"

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Why wouldn't it?"

"Because this doesn't make any sense and it says right here that it's nothing more than a myth," she said waspishly.

"But look at this…all descendants of _Slytherin_." Draco looked at her as if it was something obvious. Hermione stared at him hesitantly. "He _is_ a direct descendant of Slytherin, and here it says it might be a myth purely because it is believed the blood line died out, but it hasn't."

Hermione squirmed in her seat. "Alright, well supposing he has the curse…" Draco sighed in exasperation. She continued as if there had been no interruption at all. "Supposing this curse exists, then how do you explain he _didn't_ die?"

"That's simple. He found a way to control it."

"How do you know?" she asked, pursuing her lips stubbornly.

"Please, Hermione. Don't pretend like you don't know who we're dealing with," he said in a hurried whisper. "If he's read this, do you really think he's just gonna sit around without doing anything about it?"

"You're right." Hermione agreed, looking pensive. "I wouldn't be too surprised if he's already got his mind onto something. He's not the type of person who just stands around waiting for what is to come."

Draco nodded. "He plans things. I'm guessing he's going to look for some sort of remedy."

Hermione remained quiet, her fingers flipping through the pages automatically, though her mind was somewhere else. In that instant something lit in her brain. "But he still had the horcruxes," she whispered, almost to herself.

Draco looked up, as if he had not heard correctly. "What?"

Hermione seemed in dazed. "That's probably how he did it. By splitting his soul he managed to split the curse."

Draco seemed to be on the wrong page, because he didn't understand a thing she was saying.

"What are you talking about? What are horcruxes?"

She was getting excited, which is what happened whenever she felt the solution forming around somewhere in the corners of her mind.

"Hermione!"

"What?" she spat, but then she stared at him as if she was only seeing him there for the first time. "Of course," she whispered. "You wouldn't know anything about that."

"About what?" he pressed, starting to get annoyed.

Hermione looked around to make sure no one was near, and then leaned in closer. "A horcrux is very dark magic. It is any object in which a witch or a wizard can hide a fragment of his or her soul for the purpose of attaining mortality."

He wasn't sure if he had heard correctly. He wondered if anyone else knew about Voldemort's horcrux and why had he not known before.

"So…he made a horcrux?"

Hermione shook her head vehemently. In that moment a Hufflepuff walked slowly around the end of a nearby bookshelf. They waited until she was gone to continue.

"Not only one," Hermione continued quietly, as if afraid someone else might walk by. "He managed to make seven. And, of course, the more horcruxes are made the higher the price would be. That's why in our present he looks less…human."

"How do you know all this?"

He felt…deceived? Ashamed? He should've known. He had also done his research, but all he found was that the Dark Lord had been called Tom Riddle before he had been converted into…_that_.

"Dumbledore told Harry before he was…" she trailed off. "That's what we were doing when we were ambushed. We were searching for the horcruxes so we could destroy them."

Draco remained quiet for a long awful moment, trying to assimilate what he was hearing. Now that he thought about it, it made total sense, and he felt utterly stupid as to not have figured out that Voldemort surely had found a way to overcome death.

"So these horcruxes," he started. "You say they can be objects. I presume we're not just talking about old cans and boots."

"It has to be something valuable, important to him in some way."

"And do you know what they were?"

She shook her head. "Not all of them. We had a locket, but it was a fake one and then we found the real one and destroyed it. And there was also the diary."

Draco's eyebrow furrowed even more, if possible. "What value could a diary have to him?"

"I don't know. Ron told me it was a muggle diary that he'd bought in Vauxhall…" she stopped there. For a moment Draco wondered whether she was having a breakdown, because all color seemed to have drained from her face. Soon she started mumbling incoherently.

Draco stared at her, wondering whether he ought to be worried. He knew she was mad deep down, and stubborn, and bloody hell annoying, but he had never seen her crack like this.

"Granger, what?" he asked between clenched teeth.

She just stared him without responding.

"Hermione?"

She bit her lip and her eyes started welling up with tears.

"I think I…Oh, Draco, how could I've been so stupid?" she cried.

"_What_?"

"Remember that time in London, when I was in the bookstore and I…"

"Yes, yes, I remember. You had a book with you."

She stared at him, and if it was possible, her tears started flowing more intensely than before. Realization seemed to dawn upon Draco.

"Oh, Granger, please don't tell me you…"

She nodded, her hands burying her face. "I don't know what happened, I just didn't think, obviously," she said between sobs. "I don't know what's been happening to me. I just feel as if I'm walking on glass most of the time, and I feel hazy and queasy, and I just…I can't think of anything because I start getting this feeling…"

Draco buried his head in his hands as well and did not feel the need to resurface. This isn't how it was supposed to be. Fucking hell, he wanted to punch something.

"Draco," Hermione asked, quietly. "Are you…alright?"

"Yes," he answered curtly.

"Are you sure?"

"No. I'm not. This isn't how it was supposed to be."

"What are you talking about?"

"This is a dead-end, Hermione. We've gotten ourselves trapped, and now I don't-" He had realized he had raised his voice, and then tried to contain it. "…I mean, I'm not even sure this is going to work out if we don't end up dead first."

"Wh-do you-" Hermione sighed. The tears had dried on her face and marked crystalline trails across her cheeks. "Are you giving up?"

"This isn't me, Grang-_Hermione_. I'm not like you, I'm not…" he trailed off. "I thought that by coming here, by helping you, it would ease this guilt I had, but it hasn't. And I cannot help but think of what I had before, the facilities, and where my only mistake would be gaining my Lord's wrath and losing my mother." Draco sighed. "I know this is a cowardly remark, but I can't help but feel this way. We have no way of winning this."

For a moment Hermione was too shocked to speak, but then she just shook her head vehemently. "No, we can do this. I know we can, we just have to-"

"We can't, Hermione. He's far too clever. He can manipulate people. Look at what he's done to you already, you've given him his first horcrux without you knowing it."

Hermione's eyes welled up in tears again. "I know, it was- I don't-I don't know what happened, I just didn't think. It was far too careless of me to have done that and a huge oversight, but we can still fix this…"

"Hermione…"

"_No, listen_! You said so yourself, the initial plan was to gain his trust, right? But now is different. We just have to stay as far away from him as we can. He mustn't suspect anything from us, Draco."

"And then what?"

"Find a way to destroy him." said Hermione with conviction.

"It's not that easy," he said, pointing out the obvious.

"I never said it was. But we haven't got anything better to do, have we?" Hermione said, feeling a sudden, helpless anger.

"We haven't got a thing to do!" he scowled, mockingly, when he caught glimpse of movement near one of the shelves. Jet black hair tied up in a high ponytail. Draco's body stiffened.

"I have to go," he said hastily.

"What?" asked Hermione confusedly.

He grabbed all his books and stormed out of the library. He walked quickly down the corridors, wondering why the hell he had made such a fuss about it.

"You were just about to pop an artery back there," Lynn said smugly, keeping up with him easily with short strides.

He said nothing.

"Did you leave because your dear friend annoyed you, or because you saw me?"

Draco turned to see her, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Trust me, it is for neither of those reasons. I have class."

As he continued to walk, he was conscious of her steps behind him.

"Don't you have any friends to go to?" he asked sounding annoyed.

"Oh, I have friends," she responded sardonically. "I just don't need to be glued to them day and night, do I? I'm better off on my own. _And_ besides, I'm not the one who sits everyday in a library at the furthest table with a Ravenclaw."

"And how do _you_ know that?"

"I don't." Her eyes flickered. "I'm just supposing."

"Of course."

"And who is she? Your girlfriend?" Lynn snorted. "One would think you'd have better taste than that."

"And why's that?"

"We all know they're nothing but boring know-it-alls."

Draco said nothing.

They continued walking through the moving staircases when they encountered Nott and Mulciber in a corner.

"Hey, Carter!" Mulciber shouted. "We didn't know you liked such company!"

Lynn ignored them and kept walking, besides Draco.

"We thought you'd have better taste than that," Mulciber teased, unknowingly repeating Lynn's earlier words.

"You know, Mulciber, I don't know if you knew this, but I'm right here," Draco said, uncaringly.

He pretended not to have heard and continued talking to Lynn. "I saw you yesterday talking to Ri-"

"Sod off, won't you?" Lynn snapped and she started walking faster. Mulciber and Nott stopped in their tracks. Mulciber seemed to be fuming.

Draco wondered what the hell had happened there and turned to where Mulciber was standing, smiling cockily.

"Maybe it's the hair. Next time I'd recommend you cut it off," he said and started to follow Lynn.

"Do you know them?" Draco asked breathlessly, as he worked to keep up with her strides.

"Yes," she said with her lips pursued.

"Are they your friends?"

"No."

"They seemed to know you well," he pressed.

"I'm on the Quidditch team. That's why," she said, as if this dismissed the entire inquiry.

"And do you know Tom Riddle?"

He was only watching her from the corner of his eye, but he thought he saw her stiffen. She turned to look at Draco.

"I sincerely doubt anyone _knows_ Tom Riddle. Why the sudden interest?" Lynn asked abruptly.

He shrugged, his hands buried deep in his pockets. "No reason."

"I don't really see why we should be talking about him."

He thought he had noticed a tinge of nervousness in her voice. "Why, does it bother you?"

"Why should it?"

"Is he your boyfriend?"

Draco knew the mere thought was ridiculous. He hadn't imagined Voldemort to look like how he did in his "younger days", but he was attractive as hell. Though he never really took any interest in girls as far as Draco could tell.

"That's ridiculous," she scoffed. Her violet eyes narrowing. "Where did you get that? And besides, Riddle never dates anyone."

"And that bothers you."

"What is this? Twenty questions?"

Draco snorted. "I doubt it."

"You're right. It's not, because then I'd have to question you too."

He stirred.

"That bothers _you_?" she countered snidely.

"No," he responded with a smirk.

"Do you have something to hide?"

"Of course not. Ask anything you want."

"I will, but not now. I have to go to class." She started to walk away, but then stopped, and slowly turned. Draco raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Hogsmeade, midday."

And with that she disappeared through the throng of students. He'd never really understand women, would he?

oOo

The Slytherin common room was practically deserted. The green lights emanated an eerie glow around the room, making his head grow suddenly heavy and his vision grew dim. He was deadly tired, but still he couldn't stop thinking about Lynn and what she had said about Hogsmeade. Did that mean they had a… _date_? The mere thought made him shiver. He wasn't sure how he felt about her yet. All he knew was that she was…complicated, bipolar, sarcastic, and annoying. Draco didn't like her that much, but there was something that still drew him in. He wanted to find out more about her. And he knew she had some secrets on her own.

He couldn't quite get rid of the feeling that she knew more about Riddle than she was letting on. He slowed down when he noticed four people lounging carelessly in a corner.

"I wish I could go to another school," a young boy, whom Draco didn't know, was saying. "Maybe Beauxbatons."

"Hmm." Abraxas said, as he shifted into his sit until he finally got into a comfortable position.

"So, have you got any French relatives, Abraxas?"

"I don't," Abraxas answered, sounding annoyed. Draco couldn't help but hear.

"Me neither," A girl chimed in.

Draco craned his neck to get a look at the girl who had spoken. He had rarely seen girls sitting with them, or voice their thoughts while they were speaking. She was tall, with auburn curly hair. Her face was probably one of the most exquisite he had ever seen, with a small pointy nose, and a bright row of white teeth. But her eyes were what caught most his attention; they had some sadness in them. Her whole aura was sad. He was painfully overwhelmed by an image of his mother.

He wondered if he would ever see her again.

"Did you lose something Laurent?" Nott asked, scornfully. Draco hadn't noticed they had stopped talking and were looking at him.

"I believe I can stand wherever I wish." Draco's left hand shifted into his back pocket, gripping his wand tight in case he had to use it. "Or was there a special rule where it said I couldn't?"

"I'd deem it appropriate if you don't meddle in things you clearly don't know a thing about," Nott said.

Deem it appropriate? He clearly spent too much time with Riddle. Draco was sure that if Riddle was present he wouldn't have been so cocky.

Both of Draco's eyebrows rose in amusement, and with a snort, he replied acidly, "And I'd deem it appropriate if you used your own words next time you talk. I doubt you know the meaning of most of them."

Nott stared at him, narrowing his eyes, and Draco knew he had hit a nerve. The Nott's had never been really clever now that he thought about it.

"And what about Bulgarian relatives?" the girl continued, ignoring their little exchange. "Durmstrang seems like a better school to be in than this."

Abraxas seemed pensive. "The only relative I've got there is-"

"Roman," Draco couldn't help saying smugly. He almost laughed at the look on Nott's face. Almost.

Abraxas' brother Roman. His father used to mention him. Apparently he had married a muggle woman for a village and his family had disinherited him, though he didn't know whether that had already happened or not.

Abraxas raised his eyebrows at him. "Yes, my brother Roman. Though I haven't spoken to him in years." Abraxas sulked for a moment, and then both of his eyebrows shot up. "How do you know about him?"

Oh, shit, Draco thought. He stirred uncomfortable in his spot. "My mother, she…she had relatives in Bulgaria. And she seemed to know him well. He was my grandparent's neighbor. He was a good man, maybe with different opinions on how certain things worked, and not that bright, but good nonetheless." To contrary with _my_ father and grandfather, he said to himself.

"That's certainly odd, Laurent." A silky voice said from behind. Draco turned around, cursing inwardly, but his face showed no expression, mimicking Riddle's. Apparently he had just entered the common room. The green light contrasted oddly with Tom's pale skin, and it gave him a deadly look. His silver eyes, however, seemed to pierce his whole soul.

"I was aware you lived in France, and then moved to England when you were younger." Riddle said, feigning confusion.

"Yes, that's right." Malfoy said, carefully making sure to say just the right amount of words. No more. Hermione still hadn't told him the whole story she had made up of their past, and he was afraid he'd make Riddle more suspicious if he said the wrong thing.

Riddle arched his eyebrow, but his demeanor betrayed nothing. "But- as long as I have understood, Grindelwald took Bulgaria years ago. Even before you were born." His silver eyes narrowed into menacing slits. "It's strange you'd have met him, well if you ever _met_ him of course." He chuckled. "It's just, that's what I supposed, since you had such a solid description of his character, but that can be me, making preconceived conclusions."

Draco nodded. "My mother has told me all about him. I've never met him of course. I left to England at a very early stage of my life, and haven't left since then."

Riddle nodded. "Of course, though, pardon if I meddle much, I'm just wondering, how is it your mother had contact with him? The Bulgarian frontier was blocked years ago." He said, oozing contempt.

Draco stared at him intently, narrowing his eyes as well. He thought himself to be so clever, and he wasn't mistaken about that. Riddle's eyes wandered from Draco's face to his hands. His eyes glistened imperceptibly for just a second and then back to his cold stare. Draco looked down. He hadn't realized he was twiddling his thumbs nervously.

"She only met with him a few times, until it was blocked," he replied curtly. He was completely aware that nothing he had said had made quite sense and it was useless to think Riddle would believe it. But it was worth the try. Draco swallowed hard. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am deathly tired."

Draco immediately turned on his feet, trying to ignore the fact that Riddle's eyes were puncturing holes in his back the whole time.

oOo

Hermione shivered and wrapped her cloak around her tighter. She bent closer to her parchment and neatly dipped her quill in the small jar of ink before trying to write some more words down, but paused for what seemed the umpteenth time with a thoughtful look on her face. She had considered it fairly easy to finish the transfiguration essay, but as she sat in the library that night with her quill and parchment, she found herself staring out the window at the moon, tapping her quill idly. Finally, she shook his head as if clearing it.

She couldn't stop thinking about the diary, about what Draco had said, about Tom having this curse. This was a good thing, she supposed. If Tom actually had the curse, the easier it would be for him to die. But she wondered if he already _did_ have a plan. _Of course he does_, said a voice inside of her.

But what? He had the horcruxes, but according to what Harry had told her, he had found out about them in his sixth year. And Draco and she didn't believe he'd sit around waiting for answers to seek him. He _sought_ the answers.

And she did too. She wanted answers. More importantly-she _craved_ answers.

Frustrated, she pulled out the book. It seemed to glow in the beam of moonlight. The pages were heavy, made of a rich, creamy paper that slid easily under Hermione's fingertips. She stared reading, and flipping, reading, and flipping. She'd never seen a book like it, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder where he had gotten it from. It had such dark themes; it wouldn't even be allowed in the restricted section.

Curses, jinxes…Hermione was scandalized at the graphic pictures of each curse. But there was one that caught most her attention. It was a man-or at least it was supposed to be a man-, his face was shredded skin and black blood where he'd raked himself with his nails. But his eyes were the worst part. They were practically bulging from his face, and they stared at her. They stared, and hated, and she could see madness dripping from them.

_Mentis-Venefirous,_ it said beneath the picture in small, golden italic letters. Disgusted at how someone could even dream of doing something like that, she continued flipping the pages. At the end, she was almost about to give up when she found something that might help.

"_The Laveus ring is rumored to be a legendary item that had once belonged to one Thomas Magnus in the beginning of the 13th-century. In popular conception, the ring is thought to possess a magical substance known for its uncanny ability to intensify the magical aura of the one possessing it. Its various uses range from limitless wandless magic to untraceable and powerful curses."_

She shivered without reason and looked around. The library was almost empty and the lights emanated an orange glow around the place. It made her drowsy. She held back a yawn, and continued reading.

"_It is also believed to be an elixir of life of some sorts, particularly known for its healing abilities. _

_According to legend, Thomas __Magnus__ was said to have passed the magical talisman to his pupil, Albertus__ Aquinas__, shortly before his death circa 1280. Magnus recorded that, through the ring, he witnessed the cure for his son's illness. It is rumored Albertus Aquinas had been victim of a terrible curse cast upon him by a Dark Wizard in the early fifteenth century, and was on his deathbed when his father and mentor gifted him the ring, vanishing any trace of the curse from his body. However, no one saw nor heard anything further from Aquinas, until his death caused by natural circumstances in 1355. _

_The ring is said to have been lost in the mists of time. Some believe that it was recovered by a wizarding king in the seventeenth century, and that it is stored today in the Ministry of Magic, forgotten in the many unnamed vaults of the Department of Mysteries."_

Hermione sat still for what seemed like an eternity. She wasn't sure what to think about it. There were just so many things to assimilate. If this ring existed, and if Riddle had already read this, then it meant that he would probably want it.

Hermione had never heard about this myth, and she wasn't sure of how it might work. There was no known magic capable of curing curses for all she knew. And there was no magic capable of overcoming death apart from—

Horcruxes. Very dark magic.

If the ring existed and if it managed to work, then it wouldn't be at no price.

What worried her was that Riddle would stop at nothing to get that ring and make it work. But…under what cost?

Hermione decided to give the subject more thought in the morning, when she could think clearly and her mind wasn't fogged with tiredness.

It wasn't until she was about to close the book, when she noticed there was a missing page.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: I really hoped this chapter didn't disappoint. After all this time without updating for several, intimate reasons, I'm so glad I can finally get back on track. **_

_**So what did you guys think? I have so many things planned out for this story, and it excites me and terrifies me at the same time. So, Hermione and Draco know now about Tom's secret. What will they do about it? More importantly, what will Tom do when he finds out they've been going through his stuff? **_

_**And what do you think about Lynn? I like her so much. She's this typical Slytherin with her stereotypes against Ravenclaws, and all those who aren't in Slytherin, but she really is different in some ways, and one can only hope she's the one to give Draco some meaning about his life. Aaaand she has some secrets on her own as well. **_

_**I also realized I made a mistake on the date in chapter one. It's not 1943 yet, since that's the date he opened the chamber of secrets. So I changed it to 1942, sorry if I confused some of you, I didn't notice.**_

_**I'd love it if you tell me what you liked, or what you disliked (nice words please) hehe. Also, I'm going crazy with school and college applications but I'm going to try to write fast because this story excites me, and I want to get to the good part already, Gaaah! **_

_**Remember, review, favorite, alert. **_

_**Have a great week, guys. **_


	14. Let no such man be trusted

**Author's notes: Hey how you doing? So yeah, as you can see I'm still alive, and terribly sorry for all this wait. I don't want to lose readers, because I know how frustrating it is to be waiting on someone to update. But school's been keeping me terribly busy, and I have to study for my exam to college. I do it on April's twentieth, and haven't had time to study at all, yeah thanks to my lovely teachers and their stupid homework. **

**Anyway, I hope you all like this chapter, many things happen on it, so this is my way of saying sorry. Also, thanks to my beta Pooja for editing this. **

**I hope you're all doing terrific. **

_oOo_

_She saw her mum across the lake. Hermione gaped at her, rapt at her shadow etching across the water. She looked up and stared at her mum, unaware of the tears that were now flowing freely down her cheeks. She wanted to hug her, call her, but she couldn't form the words. Hermione tried to call her mum, but no sound would come out of her mouth. She tried calling her by her name, but she found that she couldn't remember it. Hermione started shaking, convulsing with the need of running to her mum's open arms, when the figure began to vanish. _

_Hermione appeared at a place where she was sure she couldn't forget, even if she wanted to. A familiar scream pierced her ears and she could swear it rippled through her body. Hermione ran through the stairs and saw herself. __Her quivering hands moved desperately in the air trying to make Bellatrix stop as the tears now flowed hurriedly down her gaunt and withered face. __The Hermione on the floor was drenched in sweat, her body squirming in pain. The pain was unbearable. It felt as if her insides were burning down in flames, gnawing each of her limbs __with deliberate slowness, making her want to claw her nails into her own skin just to get rid of the pain. _

_The Hermione watching was trying to control herself from doubling over in grief. She caught glimpse of Harry and Ron in a corner, screaming and trying to release themselves from the death eater's grips. _

_Her friends yelled her name from a corner, but her vision was slurry, and her body had become numb with pain. _

"Hermione!" she saw Harry call again, but then she realized the voice wasn't Harry's; it was a feminine voice.

"Hermione!" Selene said, shaking her.

She woke up, gasping and holding her throat. "What…" she looked around. Her head was spinning. and her whole body was shaking. It was so real, it had felt so real.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Mina asked, worriedly.

"Yes, it was just a bad dream, that's all."

"Hermione, you're bleeding," Selene said, her voice trembled.

Her hand shot up to her nose self consciously, remembering Draco's relapse in the library. Indeed, she was bleeding. She wiped it with her sleeve and looked around. "I'm sure it's nothing serious. I, um, what time is it?"

"You've still got time," Selene said, furrowing her brow.

"I had a bad dream, I couldn't wake up, I…"

"It's okay, Hermione, we understand."

No, they didn't understand. And they'd never would. The worst of it all was that Hermione couldn't even explain it. Apart from the obvious, which was keeping her secret safe, she believed that even if she _could_, she could never describe all that she was feeling, all that she'd felt before; everything she saw whenever she closed her eyes.

Running, fleeing. Every hour was a new danger, a fear that drilled her bones, like a thousand knives. People had died to defend their cause and more people would be funneled to the same fate. When she had been there, the world had been very distant, like she was living in a nightmare without end. All the people and things you loved ceased to exist. Instead those thoughts were replaced by hatred and fear. She had to fight not to being wrapped by those vile feelings and keep fighting. Fighting for the good things, for the small details of love and affection that gave life sense, regardless of the world that was so mean and petty they lived in.

"Someday we will be free again," Harry had said to her a couple of days before he was ambushed and murdered. His body battered and bloodied that haunted her at night, was replaced by Ron's shortly, and then Ginny's, and Mr. Weasley's, and so forth. Although, perhaps it was better that they were dead. There was a time when she wondered why the world was so cruel as to leave her to face that cruel world, without Harry or Ron to comfort her at night. She knew she had been selfish, but now she tried to appease her conscience, being thankful that they had finally found that much needed peace. But, as for her, how was she to live in a world where there was nothing good to hold on to? How was she to be free again?

Draco walked toward the library, hoping to find Hermione. He had given the Riddle subject much thought. A week had gone by since they had nicked the book; he really didn't know how much longer it would take Riddle to figure out they had took it in the first place. And he was worried of what Riddle would do to them when the inevitable happened.

Draco swallowed.

Hermione had also told him about the ring. The Laveus ring capable of curing every disease or curse. He imagined all the possibilities of that ring, all that they could do, all that Riddle _could_ do. Maybe it was better if the ring turned out to be nothing more than just a myth.

He also thought about Lynn. She had been nowhere in sight the last Saturday, when he was waiting for her to go to Hogsmeade. And now that he thought about it, he hadn't really seen her much this week. Maybe she was avoiding him. He had to roll his eyes at the thought. If someone had to be avoiding someone, it had to be him.

"I figured you'd be here," he lied, when he spotted Lynn reading in a corner. But now that he thought about it, it was logical she'd be here. She was always here. It was either here or the Quidditch pitch.

When she didn't respond, his gaze drifted.

"You weren't at Hogsmeade."

Instead of answering, she flipped a page of her book.

"Are you giving me the cold shoulder?"

Again, no response.

"You ditched me on Saturday." His tone had now turned reproachable.

She glanced up; her eyes were reddened, as if she had been crying. "I really don't have to give you any explanations."

"I don't care, really. You're not the only company in the world," Draco said scathingly, tucking his hands in his pockets. When she didn't reply, he let out a sigh of annoyance. "You think you're rather mysterious and interesting, but you're starting to annoy the hell out of me."

Something flickered in her eyes when she looked up again. "You know nothing about me."

"Then tell me," said Draco, as he plopped down in the seat in front of her.

Lynn narrowed her eyes. "Why do you care?"

"I told you, I don't care. But I'm bored."

She stared at him incredulously. Lynn took her things and began to walk away.

"Wait," he called out, shaking his head. "I'm sorry."

Lynn turned around, and arched an eyebrow incredulously. "Are you?"

"Why's that so hard to believe?" Draco asked, arching a brow.

"You don't strike me as a guy who apologizes."

"You know nothing about me," he said, repeating her earlier words.

"What do you want with me?" she questioned.

"Nothing," he said, deadpanned.

"Good, then you won't mind if I leave." Lynn stood up.

"Why are you always this tight?" he said, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

"You wouldn't understand, so what's the use?" She started to walk away.

"You know what I think?" Draco asked. Lynn turned around reluctantly. "I think this rudeness is just your way to pretend like you're strong, but we both know that it's just a pathetic façade at the end of the day," Draco said.

There was no hint of muckiness or irony, just plain truth. And he knew that, because that's what he did with people himself. There was something in the way she was staring; he knew he had hit a nerve. But he was just hoping she'd say something rude or sarcastic, anything really. Instead she just stood there, her lips furrowed.

Her arms were by her side and she didn't seem to decide what to do with them, so she crossed them in a defensive pose.

"How would you even know?"

_Much more than you think_, he thought bitterly.

He nodded toward the book she was holding in her hands. "What are you reading?"

When she didn't respond, he squinted at the title, and read out loud, "Magical bonds?"

She looked at the book, and then furrowed her brow, as if having forgotten she had been reading that book. Lynn shook her head as if clearing a thought and crossed her arms again. "Your parents must be so proud you can read."

"My parents are dead." It was a lie, made up for the story Hermione had created for their cover. But how could he be so sure his mother was still alive in his time? For all he knew she was probably getting tortured in one of the cells, or worse. And all because of his betrayal.

For a moment Lynn was too stumped for an answer. Then, ever so slowly she began to walk toward him and took a sit.

"I'm sorry. I didn't, I wouldn't have…" her voice had an odd, high-pitched tone.

"Don't bother. But thanks," he demurred dryly.

"I didn't know."

"I know."

Lynn looked down and twiddled her thumbs. "My parents… are dead too."

Draco glanced up, surprised by her sudden trust. She didn't strike him as a girl who trusted someone with that kind of information. He opened his mouth to talk and then promptly closed it when he realized he had no idea what to say.

"They got killed in an air-raid. I was three," Lynn continued, her voice quivered, but her face showed nothing. "The reason I didn't go to Hogsmeade with you, is because my sister…she's sick. I went home directly, I just got back yesterday."

He didn't say anything because he wasn't good with words. He wasn't used to comforting people; he just made fun of them. But he couldn't do that. Not now, not with her. The pain behind her words was just too overwhelming to ignore.

"She's the only family I got left, Draco." Her voice broke a little, but she covered it with a cough.

He flinched self-consciously when she called him by his name.

"And my grandma."

He nodded, understanding. He stared at her, but she was looking into her palms. He was almost sure she'd cry right then, but she didn't. And in that moment, he sensed that she was not what she mostly showed the world she was. And without knowing why, Draco held onto that thought, where a heart showed beneath the wall of irony she projected to the world.

"You don't have anyone?" she asked a while later.

His jaw muscles tensed. No. He didn't have anyone. Though he'd never really had anything from the beginning, had he? And when you had nothing, there was nothing you had to lose.

"What about that girl?" she asked, taking his silence as a negative for her previous question.

"What girl?"

"The Ravenclaw girl."

"What about her?"

"Are you close?"

"Yes. She's been with me for a long time." Lynn rolled her eyes, and Draco said quickly, "Not in _that_ way. I meant we've just known each other for a long time."

"You seem very close."

_She's the only person I've got_, he thought. And reality came crashing in. He started seeing memories roll in front of his eyes, as if they were a movie. He replayed when he'd called her mudblood for the first time in second year, when she'd hit him in third year, and all those times when he'd been mean to her. Draco had never really liked her, although he'd also hated to admit his envy, especially toward Harry. He seemed to have it all, hadn't he? Perfect and loyal friends who'd loved him, fame, luck. And what had he been left with? A life of decisions; decisions which were forbidden and completely unrelated to him.

"She's been a great help to me," he said slowly. Lynn nodded. "And what about you? Do you have any friends?"

"Of course I…I have…" she spluttered, but at the end she gave a defeated sigh.

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"I've seen you. You're always alone. You push people away."

"You don't understand."

"Sure I do," he countered.

"No, you don't," she said, her voice stronger. "It's easier to be alone. You don't have to care. And it's so easy for everyone to judge."

"Why would they judge you?" Draco questioned.

It took her a few minutes to respond.

"Haven't you heard?" she said, curling her lip curling. "I'm damned."

oOo

In a darkened bedroom, Tom was sitting in bed, his back against the headboard. He'd pulled the drapes closed. The room was illuminated only by a small candle. Everyone had gone out, since it was Friday, and he was grateful to be left alone at last. The only sound in the room was the sound of the irregular beat of his heart pounding. As he rolled a piece of wax between his fingers, he thought about recent events.

He had been ignoring that Austen girl for a week now, not that she seemed to care much. It was one thing, the plans he had for her in the near future, but he couldn't let her whole being distract him from pursuing his other plans. However, he had found her staring at him in the corridors with a strange look on her face. It was as if she was…scared of something. Of _him_. It was stupid to be scared; he wouldn't do anything if she didn't provoke him, but seeing as how things were going, he doubted he'd be able to control himself any longer. Especially now that he knew about the curse. Tom wasn't sure whether it was just hallucinations, or it was actually the curse triggering. He had felt utterly tired, and his magic was weakening. And some other times he felt so…tense, like a bomb that could explode in any moment, in any place.

For some reason, Austen came to mind again.

She was so stubborn. He wished she would see that there was so much more for her out there, so much more for the both of them. Didn't she know that if she stayed with Laurent, he would drag her down?

There was so much hatred in her, for whom he wasn't sure, but _that_ was something that, in some way, tied her to him. He hated those around him, for their weakness, their ignorance. She thought that with Laurent she'd be safe. Her fear was tricking her into an illusion of comfort.

Didn't she know her life could be anything she wanted it to be? As was his.

oOo

Hermione stared firmly at the window of the Ravenclaw common room. It had begun to rain. The drops were splattering against the crystals so hard, she flinched. And then, Hermione saw it. Riddle's face was staring directly at her from the window. She blinked, and then he disappeared. She shook her head, convincing herself it had been just a trick from her tired mind. After all, she had barely slept these past few days.

"Isn't this storm ever going to end?" Mina whined.

"It's only just started, Mina," Selene said softly.

"Mum considers this as a bad omen."

"Bad omen? For what?"

"War," Mina said ominously. "She thinks there's going to be a war soon."

Hermione's head shot up. "So, you say, she thinks Grindelwald is planning on invading England soon?"

"_That_, or he's already in England. There have been rumors that Grindelwald may be hiding somewhere in England, waiting and lurking in the shadows."

"But the aurors are already looking for him, aren't they?"

"Yes. But he's a powerful wizard, Robert. He knows curses, and jinxes. He could be standing right beside us and we wouldn't even know."

Hermione shivered. "But, he-he shouldn't be invading Britain. Not yet."

"What do you mean?"

Hermione kept her gaze fixed firmly on her book, aware of the glances everyone was throwing at her. "I- never mind me. I just think he won't dare. Maybe I figured he would in a couple of years."

"Yeah, well we've all been hoping that as well."

Hermione hadn't participated much in their little conversations. Since the morning, she'd been feeling very strange. Her head was spinning, and yet she wasn't dizzy. It was something different. It was as if her brain was spinning on a different axis, and that disoriented her completely.

She wondered if she should tell Dumbledore. If it was something she should be scared of or just part of her overactive imagination, or the lack of sleep. Hermione wouldn't be so worried, but there was something that she still couldn't get rid off of in her thoughts.

She still couldn't remember her mother's name.

oOo

Tom rose from his bed and walked to the window. Peering outside, he saw shadows stretching across the property, draping the grounds in darkness.

He lifted his left sleeve to his upper elbow and caressed his scar self-consciously. Tom slowed his breathing, concentrating on the memory.

He had always despised those muggle boys in the orphanage. When he'd turned ten, he'd found out he was different. Special in some way no one could really understand.

One day in the backyard, the two muggles had been playing baseball, a game Tom found quite irritating. He'd sat below a withered tree, a book in hand, when one of the boys had yelled at him.

"Don't you want to play Riddle?" he had said in a mocking tone. Tom kept his gaze fixed firmly on his book.

"Are you _afraid_?"

Tom remained impassive. They all had laughed at first, since they were both taller and heavier. In the end, however, they were rushed to the hospital, their faces bleeding, and one of their legs broken. Another muggle girl, who had been watching from inside, told Mrs. Cole Tom had done something to them, since he was the only other person present. Mrs. Cole had taken him to her office, clearly threatening him to send him to a juvenile detention.

He claimed he hadn't touched them, and that was true. He had just wished them hurt.

"It was an accident," Tom had said, quietly, his voice trembling. "It wasn't my intention to hurt them. But they took my book, and I told them I would tell you. They were going to kill me. One of them attacked me… with a knife."

He then showed her the deep cut on his left arm. He was also sent to the hospital, and the boys were punished. But he could see in Mrs. Cole's face that she mistrusted him. That's why she sent special doctors to look at him.

Stupid muggles, all of them. They thought they knew him, but they didn't. Soon, Tom thought, they'd really know what he was capable of and they would all get their punishment.

Tom lay down on his bed, but there was something that made him feel uneasy. He grabbed his things and searched for the book Ivy had given him. He took it in his hands and stared at it. He hadn't seen it for quite a while, like _really _see it. Riddle opened it, and was immediately taken aback. The letters were hazy, blurry, the words constantly changing, rearranging.

_This wasn't his book_.

He felt his whole body as if it was on fire and his face contorted completely.

She knew. _They_ knew. He started shaking in rage and threw the book against the window. More importantly, _they_ had gone through his stuff.

Tom had to control himself before he could break something else. He drew in deep breaths, remembering what happened whenever he lost temper.

There was only one thing he had to do.

oOo

"Ivy," Tom said, gently, and the girl's head immediately shot up. She smiled.

"Tom. What a surprise!"

He placed his hands behind his back, looking dejected. "I'm sorry I haven't talked to you, Ivy. I've just been so busy lately."

She nodded understandingly. "I know you have. I've seen you in the library every day. But you don't have to push yourself that hard, you need to take some rest."

He forced a smile. "I'll try to do that."

"Is there anything you need?"

"No, I just wanted to see how you were doing. But, I'm sorry if I interrupted anything. I- maybe we can talk another time."

"No, wait. I'm not doing anything important, it can wait. Sit down, please."

Tom stared at her uneasily, but when Ivy closed her book with a decided gesture, Tom took a sit.

"What is that you're doing?" he asked, nodding toward the book she had just closed.

She shrugged. "Just an essay."

"It's Friday, Ivy. You should be with your friends."

She looked down. "Well…I don't have any friends."

He arched an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Sure you have. I've seen you with Stuttgart and Black."

"We haven't spoken lately."

"Oh, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I shouldn't have asked—Just… ignore I said that," he mumbled.

"It's because of that girl, Austen," she grumbled.

He pretended to be taken aback. "Oh, Hermione is it?"

She nodded, grimly.

"What's wrong with her?"

Ivy gave him a look that was probably meant to be sarcastic and ironic, but unfortunately did not have the desired effect because it was inconsistent with the flabby and plain character of the girl.

Still, Tom looked at her intently.

Ivy sighed. "Ever since she arrived here, she has done nothing but to try to get the attention of everyone, and she does. I don't understand why to be honest, she's a pretty simple and plain girl," Ivy said, as if with that explanation, she'd give him a flagrant proof.

Tom tried not to roll his eyes. It was obvious that the girl was jealous of Austen and tried to justify her envy through futile adjectives, which might as well be applied for her own personality. Hermione Austen could be many things, but never boring; her bipolar character ensured that.

Ignoring the growing anger in his chest, Tom took a deep breath and sighed sympathetically. "I have not spoken to Ms. Austen much, so I can't really judge. However, I think all this attention is due to her recent appearance in school. I'm sure it'll be over as soon as it began, Ivy." Tom looked down for a few seconds, and when he looked up once again, his gaze was overwhelming. He reached out and lightly grazed her arm. "I don't think she can compete with you to be honest." He smiled, and it was such a genuine, heartfelt smile - or so she thought - it made butterflies erupt from the pit of her stomach.

Her cheeks flushed slightly. Tom smiled with more verve. They stared for a few moments, and little by little he withdrew his hand from hers. His eyes turned cold and his hands shook nervously.

She seemed to notice his mood change and became anxious again.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, afraid that she had done something to annoy him.

He shook his head noncommittally. "No, I… remembered something ... but it does not matter seriously."

Ivy looked hesitant. "Really?"

"Yes, yes…" he said airily.

She continued to look at him vacillating and began to hesitantly nod while diverting her gaze to her book once again.

Tom looked at her, feeling pissed off, then shook his head a trifle and said hoarsely, "I guess I'll leave you to your duties then, Ivy." He stood up, and burrowed his hands down deep into his pockets, a trait that he didn't use to do much, for it made him feel like a little kid who had been caught doing mischief. "I'm sorry if I bothered you with my behavior, it's just…" Tom trailed off.

"What?" Ivy pressed, feeling an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

He shook his head and laughed dryly. "I'm doing it again, huh? Sorry, I just tend to pull these things out, but I'll wait for the right time. I see now you're far too busy right now."

Ivy shook her head decisively and closed her book with a thud. "I'm never too busy for my friends, Tom." Then her eyes darkened and muttered with a sneer of condescension, "Well at least to those who still care."

Tom smiled nostalgically. "You should start seeing yourself plainly, Ivy."

"Maybe. But there will come the right time for that," she concluded with a mocking smile. "Now tell me, what is it that has you in such distress?"

Tom hesitated, unsure of how to begin. Of course, all this jitter was only a charade for her sake. "I know it may seem trivial, but ... remember the book you gave me?"

"Yes, I remember. What about it?"

"Well I always keep my things stored under spells, you see, that's why I don't quite understand how…" he seemed to be having an internal struggle. "Someone has taken it, Ivy."

"Really? But how is that possible?"

"I don't know. Nobody else knew these enchantments. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Well, I'm usually very careful with all of my private stuff. But maybe I just got too comfortable into thinking there was still some trust among all of us."

"Are you saying it could've been someone from your own dormitory?"

"That's what I suspect."

Ivy seemed to analyze the situation, although she pretty much seemed unfazed by it.

"But I really don't see the point of why someone would take it. Are you sure you haven't misplaced it?"

"No, of course not. You know how passionate I am about books, and you gave it to me, Ivy. I wouldn't dare lose it. I'm supposing someone who isn't so fond to me would've taken it."

"But, who do you think it was? You know everyone there, right?"

"Yes, that's why I…" but Tom trailed off. "I really hadn't thought about it that way, Ivy, but there is someone. Although I wouldn't have considered him capable of performing such a childish act. We don't know each other very well, though I think he doesn't like me much."

"Oh?"

"Yes. His name's Laurent."

"Oh, the new guy. The blond one?"

"Yes."

"Hm, he wouldn't have struck me as a thief."

"That's what I also thought, but I suppose we can't really trust anyone these days," he said sadly.

"I guess," she said, pensive. "Do you really think he has it?"

"Now that I think about it, I'm almost sure it was him who took it. But I haven't seen anything that proves it. Maybe he's given it to someone else? He's rather diffident among Slytherins, but I'm sure he must have other acquaintances."

Ivy was staring at him with a strange glow in her eyes that told him he had gotten her exactly where he wanted.

"Austen."

"What?" he asked, faking surprise.

"Austen. I've seen them together quite a few times here in the library," she provided.

"Austen. Of course it makes sense. They had already met before. I don't know how I hadn't thought about it…" he trailed off, pausing for effect. "But I really need to be sure. Maybe look for it in Laurent's things? And as for Austen, I don't know…"

Ivy grimaced. "And what are you going to do then?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll have to ask her. I'm sorry, Ivy. I don't know why I told you all of this; I shouldn't burden you with my problems. And I can't really expect you to help me, it's too risky. If you can't, obviously—I just knew if anyone could help me, you could—so I just thought I'd—"

"No, no. I can help you," she almost yelled.

"Oh no, Ivy, you've done enough now," he insisted.

She waved a hand airily. "It's nothing, Tom. We share a dormitory together. I can rummage through her purse."

"I wouldn't want you to get in trouble, especially not for me."

"Oh, please. If this helps me rat her out, better. And I'll help you. It's nothing."

They smiled complacently. Tom felt a surge of happiness and anxiety swirling in the pit of his stomach. He only hoped that the silly girl didn't mess it up, especially since it had been so easy to convince her.

oOo

It was noon when the strangest thing that could've happened to Hermione, _happened._ It was a day as any other. Hermione was sitting on a couch, finishing her last essay while Mina continued with her daily harangues about Robert. She stopped once she realized no one was actually listening to her. That's when it happened.

"Hermione," called Ivy from the other side of the couch. Hermione looked up, not quite sure if she had heard right. There was no sign of muckiness, or condescension in her voice. She never talked to her. In fact, she had thought Ivy didn't like her at all. Even so, Hermione answered as politely as she could.

"Yes?"

"Do you have your potions book?"

"Yes. It's in my trunk. You can take it if you want."

"Oh, right. Thanks."

Ivy fumbled everywhere for the book, with her heart beating a mile per hour. She feared it might explode soon, and splatter. She thought of Tom, of his proud stare when she had told him of her suspicions about Austen and the book. She was sure that in that moment, he had considered her a magnificent human being, as cheesy as that sounded. And obtaining Tom's admiration and trust was everything she could ever ask for.

Even so, her excitement was dwindling. Clothes, parchments, books, and more papers, but Tom's book was nowhere in sight. Ivy started to feel frustrated, and then it occurred to her that maybe Hermione had it in her bag.

With a sigh of defeat, she went down the stairs, somewhat nervous and irritated.

"Did you find it?" asked Hermione, once Ivy had gotten down the stairs. She had a weird look on the face, distant and odd, Hermione thought.

"I…" Ivy started, twiddling with her thumbs. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I don't know what's happening to me. It wasn't the potions book I needed but the transfiguration one." She laughed anxiously

Hermione looked at her quizzically, and then to Ivy's bag on the floor. Her transfiguration book was sticking out from a corner. Ivy seemed to sense her gaze, but still tried to remain neutral. Hermione smiled finally.

"Sure, take it. It's in my bag."

Ivy smiled, a tad taunt. Hermione diverted her gaze to her book, but she still saw Ivy out of the corner of her eye. Her hands trembled.

Defense against the dark arts, Arithmancy, Transfiguration and…

She was right. Austen _had _stolen the book. Ivy clenched her fists, and grabbed the book self consciously, though she didn't pull it out of the bag.

"Is everything okay?" inquired Hermione.

Ivy let go of the book. "Yeah, yeah, sorry."

She pulled out the transfiguration book, and put the bag on the floor. Ivy turned to look at Hermione, and smiled. "Thank you."

Hermione nodded, staring at her suspiciously. There was something that didn't quite fit. She knew Ivy didn't need the book, not since hers was in her bag just beside her chair. There was something else. But what? She wasn't sure. And she didn't know if she was just reading far too much into it, but still, Hermione was willing to delve further into the matter.

oOo

Three days had passed since Tom had commended the mission to Ivy. For a fleeting instant, a funk came to him when he thought she might be too stupid to fulfill such an easy quest. It was far too simple. Something he'd do himself, but why do it if he had someone else to take the blame for him?

It was Monday afternoon when Ivy found him walking down a corridor in the seventh floor.

"Tom, Tom!" she called, her voice rushed.

"Ivy, hi. What's the matter?"

The girl's hair was tangled, and a few drops of sweat were running down her forehead. She must've been trying to keep up to his long strides for a while now.

"Tom," she muttered, once she'd regained her breath. "You're right, Austen's got the book. I hadn't told you because I wanted to get it for you, as a surprise." When she said this, her cheeks turned a bright scarlet color.

On some other occasion, Tom would've shown some tad of surprise or excitement. But he already knew Austen had the book. He just had to give the girl some credit. If he was feeling something at that moment, it was annoyance, not excitement.

"Oh? And do you have it?" he asked, feigning hope.

Ivy stared at her feet, with an air of nervousness. "I tried, Tom. But I think she suspects something of me."

Tom felt all his expectations sink to the bottom. Of course she hadn't done it. She was too useless to do it.

"What do you mean, Ivy?" he said, his voice wavering.

"She never lets the god damned book out of her sight. She carries it in her bag all the time."

Tom didn't say anything. He tried to be polite, but in this moment he was mad. How complicated could it be to nick a book? Laurent had done it, Austen had done it. But of course, Ivy had half the shrewdness of those two.

"Are you mad?" she asked in a small voice.

Tom shook his head. He was making a strenuous effort to remain impassive, but sometimes human stupidity completely overwhelmed him.

"No," he muttered with a strained voice.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I'll do what's possible, but…well, it's just a stupid book, isn't it?"

That completely finished up his self control. He felt as if an alien force had taken over his body and filled himself with wrath. He couldn't control himself, even if he wanted to. Maybe it was the curse, but who cared anyway? A stupid book? That stupid book contained the biggest secret of his existence. But a foolish girl wouldn't understand that. He looked around but there was no one in sight.

He grabbed her by the arms and smashed her against the wall. "No, you're the only stupid thing here."

Ivy had never been more afraid in her life as she was now. It was as if Tom had turned into a completely different person.

"Tom…" she wailed through her sobs. He grabbed her roughly by the arm and shook her.

"I told you to do one simple task," he growled. He wanted to stop, afraid that someone could see him. But no one would, he was sure of that. So he just let his emotions act instead of his words. He was walking with her by the arm until they stopped in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. He walked in the opposite side of the tapestry, three times, until a giant door opened. He walked inside and threw her mercilessly to the floor.

"Tom!" she cried again. Her thoughts were hazy, just hours ago, _days _ago, Tom had treated her like a princess. What was happening now? She just knew she couldn't stop crying.

"You disobeyed me, Ivy. And I don't let _anyone make a fool of me, do you understand?" _he wasn't yelling, but each of his words hurt her like a million daggers through her soul. Tom was caressing his wand softly, like a newborn, staring at Ivy with some sick twisted sweetness. "How can I make you understand, Ivy? I don't want to do this, but you leave me no choice."

Ivy stared at him with her lips parted, not quite sure what was going to happen next. She wanted to believe that Tom wouldn't hurt her, but deep down she knew that he wasn't what he had seemed, and that, indeed, by the look he was giving her, he was going to make her pay.

She hadn't known how, until, some hours later, she was still screaming and shouting as if her life depended on it, and maybe it was. All she knew before she lost consciousness was that she'd wished she was dead.

oOo

When Hermione went to the library that night, she was about to fall asleep. These past three days had been grueling on her. She was practically buried in her duties; she hadn't even had time to talk to Draco. Although, now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen much of him these days. She wondered what he could've been doing as she gave back a book to the librarian.

The library was almost deserted even though there were still some hours left before it closed. Hermione was about to turn around and leave when she distinguished a tiny figure in a corner.

Ivy was sitting off to a corner with her head lowered. Her long brown hair was hanging on either side of her face like a curtain. On the table in front of her lay a single parchment. Hermione waited for her to look up, but she never moved.

Hermione wanted to talk to her, but Ivy had gone back to her hostile self, although she'd noticed Ivy had been kind of paying special attention to each of her moves. Ivy looked sad now, but even if Hermione got close to her, Ivy would never accept her help.

She hesitated for a moment, but at the end she decided to walk away. She'd see Ivy in the common room. Maybe she'd talk to the girl then.

oOo

_Water made her clothes weigh heavier than they originally did, preventing her from resurfacing. Selene, Mina, and Hermione were in the water too, totally transformed into hideous monsters with sharp teeth that plucked off all her clothes and pieces of flesh. They were dragging her deeper. She struggled to stay afloat, but when she saw him there, in the gloom of the depth staring at her with those overwhelming grey eyes, she started to sink. _

_She saw him open his mouth, but then closed it again and smirked. His grey eyes darkened as she approached, staring at Ivy like a predator to his pray. _

_Water was entering in her body against her will. His dark eyes glimmered in the deepness of the sea, with a mischievous glint in his orbs. A glint of cruelty and evil. His pale hands started to close around her neck, while Ivy tried to scream, but her lungs were soon filled with salt water and it was too late._

"Honey, wake up."

Ivy's head shot up, gasping for air. Her lungs were burning and she could swear she could feel those smooth hands caress her neck mercilessly. She looked around, terrified of seeing Tom, but she only found the warm eyes of the librarian.

"It's late and I'm closing now. You should go before some prefect catches you out at this time." The old lady winked at her with an air of complicity.

"I'm sorry," Ivy stuttered. "I fell asleep."

"I can see that. They really shouldn't push you all so hard with all these duties." The librarian tsked reproachfully. "It's better if you leave now."

"Yes, yes, of course. Thank you. Good night."

Ivy rushed out of there as fast as she could.

The corridors were completely empty, and if the torches hadn't been lit on she would've been immersed into a nightmare with no end. There was nothing else that frightened her more than darkness. And even with the light orange hue emanating from the torches, Ivy could see dark shadows flying all around her and making her steps tremulous and hesitant. She thought of Tom. Of how his eyes, always warm, had turned harsh and cold. It was as if he had been a different person. This side of Tom terrified her. His features had turned as hard as stone and there was something in his eyes that she didn't like. She didn't like it at all.

There was something that made her feel uneasy, though. She felt as if there was something she wanted to remember but couldn't. There was something else, something hazy in her mind, but everything was so confusing. All she could remember was Tom calling her stupid, and that was it. Nothing more. Just blankness.

But what she did remember clearly was when he had smashed her against the wall. The wrath, the coldness. The cruelty marking each of his words. Tears welled up in her eyes against her will and this time she let them run freely through her cheeks. There was no one who could see her.

Why had he said that to her? Hadn't she always been nothing but nice to him? Yes, always. And still he had treated her as scum.

_Stupid_.

That was what he thought of her. After all she had done for him. Tom had made her believe he actually appreciated her intellect. He had made her feel special.

She had even begun to believe he…cared.

Stupid. Nothing more than stupid.

She wiped off the tears as she turned to another corridor. Someone grabbed her by the waist and slammed her against the wall. She was about to scream when a hand landed gracefully on her mouth. Her eyes widened when she recognized those eyes. Ivy let out a frightened gasp. She tried to free herself from that unwanted grasp, but he was too strong for her. He moved his head to one side, staring at her darkly amused.

What could be so funny about this?

She had the realization that they both had different terms of what fun meant. Ivy thought of her dream. On any other occasion she would've felt relaxed, even rejoiced at Tom's presence. But now she had a grisly funk.

When she had calmed, Tom freed her lips, but he still held her still by the arms in case she wanted to tempt fate and run away.

"Shh," he crooned.

Tears had frozen on her cheeks and her eyes were flagrant proof of how scared she was.

"Please, don't hurt me."

She didn't know why she had said this. He had never hurt her physically before, had he? Her head throbbed so much as she tried to remember. She didn't know what was happening. Tom still seemed amused, but his eyebrows went up so much, his marble forehead creased as if it had been perfectly painted by the gods themselves.

"Don't be scared," he intoned with a silky voice. A voice that chilled her to the bones. It seemed to be part of the very same darkness.

"You…called me stupid," she whispered tremulously.

"I know, princess, I know." Tom caressed her hair, and grimaced. "I didn't think of what I said. But it was your fault completely, isn't it? I gave you an order that you did not obey." He tried to sound resentful; after all, he did have an image to maintain. But he felt awfully terrible. He was sweating and felt so tired. He really didn't have the patience to deal with these kinds of people.

"No, you didn't order me. It was my idea, I offered…"

"Yes, well. You only did what you thought was the right thing to do. Let's say I just implanted this small idea in your head, to let you come up with the rest of the plan, and make you think it was what you wanted to do. It's easy, princess. It'd been easier if you thought I was proud of you. And everything was going perfect, until you ruined it."

His eyes darkened again. Tom felt how the curse was running freely through his veins. He couldn't lose control now. He slowly relaxed his face into that perfectly and unperturbed expression that characterized him. Tom slowly loosened his grip on her arms. She wouldn't run, not now. She was far too enthralled in his eyes.

"I will give you a second chance, just because I happen to be a very…_forgiving _person. I like to think you won't make the same mistake twice."

"What?" she asked, feebly. "No, I won't. I…"

Tom tsked.

"Ivy, Ivy," he caressed her face so sweetly, so gentle. "But you will. And I won't make the same mistake twice again."

Ivy opened her mouth to reply, but he talked again. His voice was barely a whisper, but she heard the words clearly.

"This won't hurt, I promise."

"Please, don't…" Ivy stared into the ground, crying again. Tom stared at Ivy so intently, willing her to look up. She did, unable to evade that hypnotic stare in which she got lost so often, and which Riddle employed perfectly.

Then he said in a dangerous, sweet tone, "_Imperius_."

And it all went hazy.

oOo

The common room was packed. Something weird on a class day, although Hermione suspected it might have been due to all the homework they were most likely trying to finish. It was odd. Hermione had the sensation Ravenclaws always did their homework on time, but maybe she was wrong.

Mina, Selene, Robert, and Hermione occupied a corner to themselves, each immersed in their own worlds. Selene was finishing her essay of two rolls of parchment, while Mina and Robert played Exploding Snap. Hermione yawned as she stared into the flames sizzling in the fireplace.

They talked for a long time until the common room began to empty. Hermione went up to her dormitory and took off her uniform. When she got out of the bathroom, she found Selene and Mina getting themselves ready to sleep.

Hermione imitated them, too tired to talk more.

It wasn't until Hermione was falling asleep that it occurred to her that she had not seen Ivy come up to the common room after all.

oOo

**Author's notes: I really hope you liked this, and it keeps you on the edge of your seat. So, feel free to tell me all of your expectations, what you liked, what you didn't. What you'd like to see. **

**Who else feels sorry for Ivy? Poor, _naïve _girl. **

**Please review. I'll try to write as fast as school lets me. Take care. I love you all...**


	15. Please read

Hey guys, I am deeply sorry I haven't written anything. I've been in college since August, and I haven't been able to do many things. Thank God my vacations start in December 5th I think, and I hope I'll be able to write again. I'm sorry if I've disappointed some of you. My classes are my priority at the moment. But I'll make it up to you somehow.

Hope you're all well.


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